Enraptured
by JaymeB
Summary: Under mysterious circumstances, Aaron has been pulled suddenly from the real world into Middle Earth. For three years she has stayed in Rivendell under then protection of Elrond. What will happen when she decides to travel to Mirkwood unannounced and visit the great Elven King Thranduil? - "I want to be like water. I want to slip through fingers but hold up a ship."
1. Chapter 1

The first thing that Aaron woke up to was darkness, an aching head, and a heavy body. With a great deal of effort, she slowly sat up to grasp her surroundings: there was nothing but trees, grass, and a lake in the distance. Or was that an ocean? It was too dark to tell for sure. She lifted a hand to her throbbing head gingerly, feeling for any damage before deciding it was just a really bad migraine. Probably not a concussion, but she could get that checked out after she found out where she was.

Aaron slowly stood, checking for any broken bones or fractures as she did, not wanting to make any sudden movements on account of her splitting skull. After she was sure nothing was damaged she looked around, noticing that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness slightly. It looked as though she were standing at the edge of a forest, the twinkling light of the stars above her. There was nothing but flat plains ahead and stray rocky terrain.

She got a dreading feeling that things were definitely not right. She didn't live anywhere near forests. She lived in a large city. She looked around frantically, looking for possible kidnappers. There was nothing. She frowned in confusion before looking down at her clothes; she was wearing dark brown pants—possibly leather—a peasant shirt with a lighter brown fest to keep it snug against her torso and a cloak.

That's when she remembered: she had been with her friends at a Renaissance Fair, being the nerds that they were, before walking around town discussing _Lord of the Rings_ and the new Hobbit Movies that came out, comparing them to the books and other Tolkien works like _The Book of Lost Tales_ or _The Silmarillion._ At around eleven or close to midnight she said goodbye to her friends and started walking home... after that it was fuzzy and then black... could she had been kidnapped?

She patted her clothing, checking for her phone, finding it in her back pocket to her own surprise. She clicked the power button. It was one in the morning on Sunday. The fair and been the day before.

She tried checking for a signal with no luck before sighing and giving up, mumbling to herself, "My best luck is to walk until I stumble across civilization… find somewhere to stay and someone who knows where the hell I am..."

It was hours before she came across a strange rock formation with a crack running through it. She could almost swear she heard faint music carried in the wind. She shook her head slightly, maybe she did have a concussion... She picked up a stray rock and threw it into the space to make sure there was nothing large and living that could killer her before sliding in herself. She felt around the walls of the cavern, hoping for a possible resting place for the night but she couldn't help the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that she needed to keep moving.

She found that the cavern continued on to a narrow passageway that was open to the sky. It felt like an eternity before she finally reached the end, staggering out onto a grassy slope. There was the sound of music, laughter, singing, and rushing water.

Her presence didn't go unnoticed long before there were freakishly tall guardsmen surrounding her, a tall man with long brown hair approaching her with caution. She didn't feel threatened, but she wasn't comfortable.

Her mind seemed to freeze as soon as she looked up at the man's face.

Elrond looked down at the stranger with concern in his eyes, "My dear, who are you? You must be weary from travel. What possessed you to wonder so far?"

Aaron stared at him, thinking quickly; she knew her name was far too strange to give so she quickly fabricated a new one before answering, "My name is Idril Aeronwen. I seek guidance and shelter, if you be so gracious to bestow it."

* * *

 **Three Years Later**

* * *

Elvenking Thranduil paced before his throne, waiting for news from the guard. He had been informed of an uninvited passer through his kingdom and was waiting for the arrival of such a foolish being. Who would dare enter his domain without informing him first? It was a mistake he fully intended to correct soon.

His guards entered the throne room suddenly, a slender figure within their custody. The great king could instantly tell it was a human; they had the build and the aura of one that was unmistakable to even the most dimwitted of Middle Earth.

Thranduil observed the human as he made his way down from his throne slowly, taking in the slightness of their figure, deducing that they were indeed female, her hood drawn over her features, making it impossible for even him to see them.

Once he was in front of the mysterious stranger, he spoke, his hands clenched behind his back regally as he stared down his nose at her, "Who are you and why do you enter my forest?"

She didn't answer, much to his frustration, so he looked at one of the guards next to her and made a small motion, the guard then ripping off the hood of her cloak, blond and brown ringlets instantly spilling forward, again hiding the stranger's face.

He repeated himself, "Who are you and why do you enter my forest?"

She spoke without looking up, "My name is Idril Aeronwen. I come from Rivendell."

Thranduil's gaze narrowed and he swiftly reached out and tipped her chin up, his cool blue eyes instantly meeting with soul warming brown ones, the fair features of her face giving no emotion away. He mentally praised her, not only for her looks, but her self-control as well, "You look at your King when spoken to."

Idril answered smoothly, "You would permit a lowly person such as myself to raise my head and gaze upon you, Oh King?"

Thranduil was stunned by the fluidness of her words, her wit sharp and clear. It was an interesting quality to see in a human. Despite his own feelings, he kept a stern gaze upon her, "Why do you come to my kingdom, uninvited and unannounced?"

She swept herself in a curtsy, bowing her head slightly, "I must apologize for my rudeness. I have taken refuge under Elrond in Rivendell for the past few years and was intrigued by the tales I was told of the great Wood Elf halls of Mirkwood, and could not resist the temptation to view the beauty for my own eyes. If it pleases you, I will compensate for my discourtesy by providing any services that you see fit."

Thranduil listened intently, praising the quick intelligence of the young girl. He thought for a moment; she seemed too exotic a specimen to pass up and her intelligence could prove useful. She associated herself with Elrond, showing she was worthy of trust and friend of elves, and her speech was that of someone who knew exactly what and when to say it, something that proved useful in even the best of times. If she was willing to stay under his control, who was he to deny the opportunity?

He waited for her to meet his gaze once again before answering, "Very well. I will accept this apology as well as your services. I will see to it that you work diligently to fulfill your duties."

A ghost of a smile appeared over Idril's lips before she bowed her head once more, " _Náto, amin Aran._ " _Yes, my King._


	2. Chapter 2

Idril ran her hands over the smooth flowing fabric that now draped her frame. She was wearing a simple lavender dress that flowed around her ankles gracefully, her hair pulled back into neat braids that were expertly pinned atop her head. She was taken to a chamber to make herself presentable in order to serve under the great Elvenking of Mirkwood, her prior garb nowhere near suiting the job of pleasing the eye.

She studied her complexion closely in the mirror: she looked wiser than she did so long ago. She had been 19 when she mysteriously appeared in the mythical realm of Middle Earth. Three years had passed since then making her 22 years old. It had been difficult to fit into the mid-evil type of behavior and rhythms, it having taking a few seconds of thought to gather the proper words to speak, and now it came to her as naturally as though she had been speaking this way since birth. She supposed it was similar to those who learned new languages by living in a foreign country, immersing themselves into the new culture.

Elrond had been kind enough to take her under his care, teaching her the Elvish language, which was every nerd's dream come true, and teaching her the necessities of survival in Middle Earth. She was able to learn that the Desolation of Smaug had already occurred and been over with by the time she arrived, giving her slight relief in a sense, and giving her a good amount of time before the Lord of the Rings would take place.

She thought back to Thranduil's stoicness when she had first met the Elvenking, his features more attractive in person than through a screen or her imagination. She briefly remembered a time when she fantasized over the seemingly fictional character, gushing over his strikingly good looks and amazing actor with her female friends. Such frivolous thoughts no longer seemed important or worth the effort. Over the years she had been hollowed out of most emotions, her only obsession finding out how to get home and clinging to the little memories she still had.

She would be lying to herself if she said she didn't enjoy her time in Middle Earth though; she had learned so much and made many good friends over the past three years and she would miss them just as dearly as she did the ones she had left behind. Idril stared at her reflection in an almost painstakingly way before sighing, dubbing herself presentable for royal presence and turned away, no longer wanting to sit with her inner turmoil.

She was escorted to the throne room, to be scrutinized by the King's powerful gaze once more. Thranduil was everything she had once imagined; cold, calculating, and every bit regal. She would have to be careful not to upset him and stay on his pleasant side; she had no doubt he could kill her in an instant if he so pleased.

Once she arrived before him, she bowed her head graciously, waiting patiently for his instruction.

Thranduil descended his throne and approached his newly acquired maiden, circling her in close inspection, his eyes reveling in the pleasing sight before him. She was oddly fair for a human, almost as fair as an elf-maiden. He suspected this was a result from residing in Rivendell for a long amount of time.

He stopped right in front of her before grabbing her chin and tilting it upwards, turning her face side to side as he inspected her, her warm eyes never leaving his as he did, "Tell me, how old are you?"

"Twenty-two, your highness."

He stared down at her suspiciously, "You are terribly polite for someone who has been given the duty as a maid."

She gave a small, bittersweet smile, "I am fully aware of the consequences if I so happen to displease you, your highness."

Thranduil eyed her for a moment before letting go of her chin, "How long have you resided in Rivendell?"

"Three years, my King."

If the Elven King was surprised, he didn't show it. He silently noted that she must have been favored if Elrond had kept her under his care for such an extent of time, "As of this moment you will carry out your duties as my personal handmaiden. You will fulfill the duties as does the other maids of the palace with the exception of you will come to my aide whenever I so call upon your services. Is that understood?"

Idril bowed her head slightly, " _Náto, amin Aran._ " _Yes, My King._

Thranduil seemed to be satisfied with the exchange and turned back to his throne, dismissing her in the process. Idril was led to servant's chambers, given a room and a gist of jobs that would be expected of her daily until she was released.

* * *

 **A Few Weeks Later...**

* * *

It wasn't long until Idril set a routine for herself at the palace, carrying out her duties punctually and with poise, keeping the palace more clean and orderly than it had been in centuries. Thranduil observed her carefully, trying to find at least one flaw with the girl but could find none. It was as though nothing he threw at her bothered her and she did every task she was assigned without complaint and followed through flawlessly. He found it entirely too odd for a simple human girl to be capable of. He would have to dig ever so carefully.

He started by giving her more personal tasks. He hosted a feast in the palace in honor of nothing more but the stars. He gave her the specific task of serving him at the head table, his eyes nearly never leaving her, searching for a fluke of some sort. What, he didn't know. He motioned towards her to bring him more wine.

She instantly brought up a pitcher filled with the strong redolent liquid, refilling his glass slowly with an appropriate amount. She looked back up at him with a placid expression, " _May I get anything else for you, my King?_ "

Thranduil felt a small irritation bloom within him at the girl's calm but dismissed her appropriately, " _No, that will be all for now._ "

Idril stared at him for a moment before looking away calmly. She was about to leave the table with the pitcher when Thranduil stopped her by grabbing her arm, " _What is it? You looked as though you wish to say something._ "

She blinked in surprised before smiling softly, knowing better than to brush it off as nothing, " _I was only thinking how lovely your eye color is, my King._ "

Thranduil seemed taken aback slightly by her answer, clearing his throat before letting go of her arm, " _You may go then._ " His free hand had gone up to cover his mouth, something that most wouldn't find peculiar, but those who were around him constantly would see it as a small sign of embarrassment.

Idril smiled softly to herself as she bowed her head and left the table formally; she was no fool, she knew the Elven King had been watching her so intently and she had no intention of letting him unveil anything of her. She always made sure to retire at least a few hours after he did—never before—she always woke up before him or any of the other maids to make not only herself presentable but the rest of the lodgings.

She was very much aware of the other maids' whispers as they carried out their own duties, which were all together smaller portions of what Idril did herself. She didn't particularly mind as much; she was given a place to sleep and food to eat and she was able to retain what precious quiet time she had to herself in the mornings when she bathed alone.

Idril took it upon herself to escort the Elven King back to his own lodgings before performing her nightly duties and retiring herself. She was bidding Thranduil a good night before he stopped her in her tracks with one command, " _Dress me._ "

Idril stood stone shocked as she stared at Thranduil, "You wish me to what?"

Thranduil looked at her with annoyance as he repeated himself, "To dress me. Any common maid can perform such a task." Perhaps it was the influence of the wine, but he felt a strong selfish desire to make her perform the task, wanting to make her ever so careful mask to crack even the slightest bit.

She slowly regained her nerves as she stepped towards him tentatively, "Right, of course..."

She held her breath nervously as she slowly worked at getting his shirt untied, hesitating before pulling it off over his head, " _Excuse me, my King..._ "

It made her uncomfortable how closely he was watching her has she tentatively dressed him, trying not to blush at the sight of his bare torso, but she pretended it did not phase her as she always did, hoping her charade would fool his wise eyes. After she had finished, she went to grab his robe before stopping, her brow puckering ever so slightly as she stared up at it, "My King... I'm afraid I'm too short…" She had never considered herself very short until in the presence of elves, which was an odd thing to get used to, seeing as she was of average height for a human female.

He stood and reached over her as he spoke, "It's fine, I can do this much myself."

He secretly enjoyed the slightest of pouts on her features, seeing how much she didn't want to displease him and watching the silent battle she was having to keep her composure. He simply patted her head softly, something that was extremely unexpected and uncharacteristic, " _You did well._ "

Idril blinked in surprise before smiling warmly, making the Elven King falter slightly, " _Thank you, my King._ "

Thranduil cleared his throat uncomfortably as he turned his back, blaming the accursed wine for his odd behavior as he silently scolded himself, "That will be all, I shall be retiring for the night."

Idril bowed politely before she exited the chambers, speaking in the Elvish tongue, " _Rest well, my King._ "


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't long before the other maids began to interrogate her whenever the chance arose. She was always careful to think before she gave an answer, knowing fully well that whatever left her mouth would reach the ears of the Elven King sooner rather than later. She was asked all sorts of questions: "Why are you working for the King? Why were you in Rivendell? What is your relationship with Elrond? Why did you leave Rivendell? Do you wish to go back? Where were you before Rivendell? Pardon my asking, but if you're human, why do you live with elves?" They continued in streams but most of them were either given vague answers or were smoothly avoided.

This continued for a few days before Idril was summoned by a very irritated Thranduil to his study. She was ready for such a confrontation, bringing him tea with calming herbs for the occasion, " _You requested my presence, my King?_ "

Thranduil flipped the book he was skimming shut and took the tea she offered him without second thought, " _Indeed. I wish for you to answer a few questions of mine._ "

Idril nodded, "Of course, my King."

He watched her silently for a moment as she stood, meeting his icy blue gaze steadily. He leaned forward, crossing his fingers in front of his mouth as if he were in deep thought, choosing his words carefully, "What was your purpose of living in Rivendell?"

Idril had already made up an answer to questions such as these, having known they would come sooner or later, "I had an unfortunate accident and lost my memories. I woke up lost and confused before stumbling upon Rivendell by accident. Elrond took me in when I had nowhere else to go."

His eyes narrowed slightly, "If you were so happy there, why did you leave? Why come here if you surely knew you would not be welcomed so graciously?"

Idril smiled softly, "I felt that it was my time to move on and my heart reached out to the beauty that resides here in these halls."

Thranduil's mouth formed a thin line, and she wondered briefly if he saw through her lie, until he let out a sigh and sipped his tea.

Idril watched him with a small look of content, feeling satisfied that she had left the king's many suspicions unanswered and untouched, "That is all for now. Be sure to prepare my bedchambers for when I retire. I expect to see you waiting."

Idril bowed her head gracefully before departing, " _Náto, amin Aran._ " _Yes, My King._

* * *

Idril began her morning routine before the sun had time to rise, slipping off to the steaming baths in the inner caverns of the palace. The baths reminded her much of a spa or hot spring, smooth caverns carved into the earth and filled with pacifying hot water that engulfed the senses, a waterfall of steaming water constantly pouring into the bath. A perfect start to every morning.

She slipped off her nightgown before settling into the water, sinking into the pleasureful warmth for a moment before she began the task of washing herself. No one in the palace woke up at that hour, giving her the quiet alone time she always craved, allowing her the freedom to be to herself and to her own thoughts. She had taken quite a liking to the Elvish mixtures they used for their hair, it always left her with a deep clean feeling that left her hair rich and soft, nothing her ordinary shampoo and conditioner could do back in her own world. She had also taken it upon herself to experiment with herbs and plants to create new face washes and body scrubs (with the help of expert elves of course) and it did wonders to her skin, leaving her feeling fresh, soft and rejuvenated.

It was during this time that she would sing aimlessly as she pondered how it was she got to be in Middle Earth: Was it all a dream? Did anyone miss her? Had she slipped into a coma and this was how her mind was coping with it? Had she actually died? It was these thoughts that constantly flooded her mind so early in the morning before she sealed them securely away into the dark depths she ignored for the remainder of the day.

She was still singing softly when she suddenly heard a deep familiar voice behind her, " _So, you wake this early every day?_ "

A small shriek escaped Idril's throat before she could stop it, covering herself and sinking into the steamy water before she tried to find her bearings, "M-my King! I was not aware that you were awake! Had I of known I would have—"

"Save your breath, no one is aware that I am awake. A maid informed me of your odd habits and I was curious to see them for myself."

Idril peeked over her shoulder tentatively, " _Had you asked I would have answered, my King._ "

Thranduil nodded, " _As I am aware, though I feel that my actions need not be justified merely for the means of entertainment. You have a lovely voice, though I do not recognize the lyric in which you sing._ "

Idril shook her head, sinking lower into the bath, the water suddenly seeming too hot, " _I would not expect you to, my King. Most would not recognize it…_ "

He was silent for a moment before speaking, " _I see. Very well then._ "

Idril relaxed slightly, thinking he would leave, until she heard a soft splash of water as he entered the bath. She turned slightly to see him naked at the other side of the bath, the water covering everything from the waist down, his robes neatly placed by the side of the basin. Idril's eyes widened in shock as a horrified blush creeped inevitably into her cheeks, "Your Highness! What are you—"

Thranduil cut her off with an annoyed glare, "Do not be so daft as to not recognize someone bathing. I find the silence at this hour relaxing and the water soothing, you are my personal maid so you ought to be use to this sort of task."

She blinked, utterly dumbfounded and undeniably distracted by the carved muscles of his bare chest, "Task?"

He met her gaze unwavering, speaking as though stating the obvious, "Assisting me to bathe, of course."

Idril frowned slightly for the first time in his presence, her facade faltering almost completely, "Are you comfortable with me doing such a thing? I don't think I am well suited for—"

Thranduil's eyes narrowed into an icy glare, " _Are you questioning my judgment?_ "

She was on dangerous grounds, needing to choose her next words and actions carefully, " _As you wish, my King…_ If I may ask a small request?"

Thranduil perked an eyebrow, implying for her to continue.

"I would ask that you please close your eyes and do not look upon me, I'm afraid I do not yet have to confidence to be met under your gaze…"

He kept his face deliberately blank as he smiled inwardly at the sight of her flushed cheeks, visibly able to see her discomfort and embarrassment for a change, "Very well."

She watched as he leaned back, closing his eyes as he relaxed into the warm waters. She quickly moved behind his view and gently began to wash his hair, letting her fingers massage his scalp, running the floral scented suds comb through his long silky hair.

She took deep breaths to calm her composure; she couldn't really see anything inappropriate due to the steaming water, so it wasn't all so terrible. She convinced herself that dressing him morning and night had prepared her for this as her face slipped into a calm facade, her eyes focused only on his hair. It was softer than she had imagined it to be, almost longer than her own which hung in wet strands around her face and down her back.

She could almost visibly see Thranduil relax, his lips parting ever so slightly as his features softened. She had never seen him so vulnerable like this. Even when she dressed him he seemed steeled and in control of the situation, letting her know he was in charge. But now he seemed delicate and fragile, like something precious in her hands. She hadn't noticed she had stopped moving her hands until his piercing blue eyes gazed back into hers, " _Why have you stopped?_ "

She instantly took a deep breath, her eyes flashing slightly before she refocused her attention on his hair, gently rinsing the suds, " _I apologize, my King. I lost myself in thought. It won't happen again._ "

He studied her for a moment before closing his eyes once more, waiting for her to finish bathing him before standing once more, his back facing her as she turned her gaze, covering herself once again reflexively. She waited until she heard the trickling of water as he got out, keeping her gaze turned out of both respect and embarrassment. She heard the rustle of cloth as he dried himself, half surprised he didn't make her do it for him, before pulling on his robe. Idril felt tension she didn't realize she had leave her shoulders.

"As you may have concluded already, this specific task will now be your responsibility from now on. I expect to see you in my chambers to dress me as soon as you finish here. Is that understood?"

Idril nodded, " _Yes, My King._ "

She held her breath until she was sure that he was gone before letting out an exasperated sigh; she had almost crumbled under the Elven king's influence, just like he wanted her to. She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling her rapid heartbeat, her pulse thrumming against her fingers like electricity: the Elven king was slithering his way into her emotions and she couldn't allow that.


	4. Chapter 4

Thranduil had begun to task the maids with gathering information on their newest addition to the palace servants, only to show with little results. A growing frustration was blooming within him when this showed no results within a few days. He also took notice to her dwindling reaction during their regular routine of dressing him, her emotions thwartingly a clear slate.

He tapped his finger irritably on his desk, unable to focus on his own affairs as he thought about this mysterious human that had so suddenly dropped into his life. It made him angry that a _human_ was able to distract him so effortlessly. She was noticeably evading giving up any valuable information about herself or her past. He knew nearly nothing about her and he wasn't pleased. He knew he couldn't force her into giving him what he wanted, he needed to slowly gain her trust and catch her off guard so she would leak the information he desired.

It wasn't but a few moments that Idril arrived after he called for her; she never kept him waiting long if at all. Her dark brown eyes were trained on him as she gave him a soft, practiced smile, holding a tray of sweet smelling tea, " _You requested my presence, My King?_ "

Thranduil flipped the book he was pretending to skim shut and took the tea she offered him without second thought, " _Indeed. I wish for you to answer a few questions of mine._ "

He watched carefully as she nodded, answering him as predicted, "Of course, my King."

He watched her silently for a moment as she stood, gazing into the dark brown depths of her eyes with his own icy blue orbs. He leaned forward, crossing his fingers in front of his mouth, choosing his words carefully, "What was your purpose of living in Rivendell?"

Idril didn't hesitate for even a second in answering, "I had an unfortunate accident and lost my memories. I woke up lost and confused before stumbling upon Rivendell by accident. Elrond took me in when I had nowhere else to go."

His eyes narrowed slightly, "If you were so happy there, why did you leave? Why come here if you surely knew you would not be welcomed so graciously?" He scowled inwardly at the sound of jealousy in his own words; why did her happiness concern him? Surly this human's _feelings_ were far too lowly to interest him, the great Elven King of Mirkwood.

Idril smiled softly at him, either ignoring his tone or not taking notice of it, "I felt that it was my time to move on and my heart reached out to the beauty that resides here in these halls."

Thranduil's mouth formed a thin line; if she was lying, she was very good and well-practiced. He wanted to dig deeper but couldn't do so in a delicate way as of yet. He let out a sigh in frustration before taking a sip of the herbal tea, letting the warmth sooth his nerves.

Idril watched him with a small look of content, as though satisfied to have completed her task as a maid and serving him, making him resign his thoughts of interrogation, "That is all for now. Be sure to prepare my bedchambers for when I retire. I expect to see you waiting."

Idril bowed her head gracefully before departing, " _Yes, my King._ "

Thranduil sat back in his chair, deep in thought; he hadn't succeeded in his own interrogation, but he _had_ been able to learn Idril's odd schedule from the other maids, and he fully intended to use that information to his advantage.

* * *

He waited to continue out his plan, awakening far earlier than he was accustomed, wrapping a silken robe around his frame before departing his chambers to the baths. The palace was dimly lit and quiet at this hour, not a soul stirring. It was quite peaceful and left his mind at ease. He was lost in the tranquility until he heard a very soft melody caressing his ears. It was smooth and sorrowful, no doubtably a woman's voice. It was absolutely enrapturing. He followed the heavenly sound, not recognizing the tune, though not particularly caring as he picked his way gracefully to the steaming baths, the pleasureful warmth and music sending a delightful shiver down his spine.

He was instantly met with the predictable sight of Idril bathing, her back to him as she glided Elven soap over her limbs, wet hair hanging down her back, her voice continuing softly, taking no mind to the new presence behind her. He watched her bemused for a solid five minutes before making himself known, " _So, you wake this early every day?_ "

A small shriek escaped the surprised girl as she covered herself and sank into the steamy water, attempting to regain her lost composure, "M-my King! I was not aware that you were awake! Had I of known I would have—"

He cut her off before she could go on any further, amused by her uncharacteristic yet appropriate reaction, "Save your breath, no one is aware that I am awake. A maid informed me of your odd habits and I was curious to see them for myself."

He watched intently as she peeked over her shoulder tentatively, " _Had you asked I would have answered, my King._ "

Thranduil nodded, having no doubt that she would have given up at least this information to him willingly, " _As I am aware, though I feel that my actions need not be justified merely for the means of entertainment. You have a lovely voice, though I do not recognize the lyric in which you sing._ "

Idril shook her head, sinking lower into the bath, " _I would not expect you to, my King. Most would not recognize it…_ "

Thranduil pondered this for a moment, wanting to pursue this question more, but finding he did not currently possess the attention to do so, " _I see. Very well then._ "

He smoothly slipped off his robe, noting how the girl in the bath visibly relaxed, before slipping into the steamy water himself. Idril instantly turned her head, her expression delectably heated with shocked embarrassment, "Your Highness! What are you—"

Thranduil cut her off, feigning irritation as he glared down at her, "Do not be so daft as to not recognize someone bathing. I find the silence at this hour relaxing and the water soothing, you are my personal maid so you ought to be use to this sort of task."

She blinked up at him in undeniable confusion, "Task?"

He met her gaze unwavering, speaking as though stating the obvious, "Assisting me to bathe, of course."

Idril frowned slightly for the first time in his presence, her facade faltering almost completely, "Are you comfortable with me doing such a thing? I don't think I am well suited for—"

Thranduil's eyes narrowed into an icy glare, enjoying his newly acquired power over her, " _Are you questioning my judgment?_ "

She fidgeted slightly, thinking her next words carefully as her brows puckered, " _As you wish, my King…_ If I may ask a small request?"

Thranduil perked an eyebrow, intrigued as of what _she_ could possibly dare to request of _him_.

She stared down at the water, avoiding his gaze as she spoke, "I would ask that you please close your eyes and do not look upon me, I'm afraid I do not yet have to confidence to be met under your gaze…"

He kept his face deliberately blank as he smiled inwardly at the sight of her flushed cheeks, visibly able to see her discomfort and embarrassment for a change and relishing in it, "Very well."

He did as asked and closed his eyes, calmly leaning back into the warm water. Without a moment to spare he heard the tell-tale trickle of water as she moved behind him, a moment later, her fingers were running gently through his hair and massaging his scalp, the scent of flowers tickling his nose. He heard Idril taking deep calming breaths above him until her breathing was back to a normal pace, but his Elvish ears could pick out the tell-tale thumping of her heart, giving away her nerves as clear as though he was witnessing a crimson blush over her delicate features.

His attention shifted to her movements, her fingers easing through his hair gently. It was admittedly nice. He vaguely wondered why he hadn't thought of such a thing before. Her touch had a soothing effect on him as he relaxed, losing himself to her touch and the blissful heat of the bath, letting his mind clear of all thoughts, something that was a rarity in itself and welcomed at that.

It took him a few minutes to realize that she had stopped moving her hands through his hair, to which he curiously opened his eyes to see her gazing thoughtfully down at him, her brown eyes meeting his when he spoke, breaking her trance, " _Why have you stopped?_ "

She inhaled sharply as an unnamable emotion flashed through her eyes before she quickly returned to her work, " _I apologize, my King. I lost myself in thought. It won't happen again._ "

He studied her for a moment before closing his eyes once more, waiting for her to finish bathing him before standing once more, his back facing her as she turned her gaze, covering herself once again. He stepped out of the bath almost reluctantly before silently chiding himself for being ridiculous. He dried himself, half considering making Idril do it for him as part of her task before shaking the thought completely; for another time. He slipped his robe back over his frame, tying the sash neatly around his waist before turning back to the waiting girl, "As you may have concluded already, this specific task will now be your responsibility from now on. I expect to see you in my chambers to dress me as soon as you finish here. Is that understood?"

Idril nodded, " _Yes, My King._ "

With a slight flourish of his robe, he left the steaming baths and his maid behind, returning to his chambers with a small bemused smile gracing his lips, his resolve renewed with a hungry desire; he was going to find out everything he could about that girl, and he was going to enjoy it immensely.


	5. Chapter 5

A royal ball. That was the newly announced event of the woodland palace, and music was to be provided by none other than Thranduil's newly acquired and unique human maid Idril.

Idril had nearly dropped the pitcher of water she had been holding upon the request, "My King? You wish me to what?"

Thranduil continued eating his breakfast calmly, his features stoic as he spoke without hesitation, fighting the bemused smirk that so temptaciously quivered behind his lips, "To provide entertainment of the musical sort during the evening's ball."

Idril swallowed and tightened her grip on the pitcher to keep her bearings, "My King, I am nowhere near worthy of your current musicians, who are the finest in the land I am sure..."

She was instantly cut off by the frigid glare she received, the Elven king's lips pierced ever so slightly as he addressed her in Elvish, " _This is the second time you have questioned my judgment. I shall not tolerate a third, understood?_ "

Idril's eyes widened a fraction as she gazed back into the cool depths of his clear blue eyes, feeling chastened and, for the first time, fearful; never had he before spoken to her in such a threatening tone. Despite this temporary flash of emotion, she kept her head, pressing her lips together tightly as she thought.

After a moment she finally spoke up, Thranduil having gone back to his meal, thinking it was the end of discussion, "Due to this new task may I ask a request in order to prepare things properly for the evening?"

Thranduil quirked an eyebrow as he glanced at her from the side, "Go on..."

Idril steeled herself as she spoke, "I wish to request the assistance of the other musicians under your service."

The Elven king turned his inquiring gaze upon her now, curious to know what she was planning. She simply met his gaze without speaking, waiting for his final word, "Do what you must. You are relieved from your other duties for the time being. I expect nothing but perfection this evening."

Idril bowed her head respectful before departing quickly, " _Yes, my King._ "

* * *

Idril sighed in exhausted content, having worked hard, pulled a few strings, and managed to put together a decent few pieces of music to perform in the evening with the assistance of a few other musicians. All of those seemingly pointless piano and violin lessons as a child were finally becoming useful. Though she wasn't familiar with the medieval type instruments of Middle Earth, she was pleased to find there were more similarities than differences, finding a piano like instrument and violin with ease. Being excused from her maid duties allowed her to work with the musicians all through the day in order to hurriedly teach them new and strange music that she could only offer through her own memory.

Idril smiled at the other musicians, who were both male elves, and offered her thanks in a drink and snack, bustling off to the kitchen in order to give them their well-deserved refreshments. The three of them agreed to end practices until the evening of the ball, Idril returning to her maid duties once more.

Once knowledge reached Thranduil of Idril's whereabouts, he had her sent to her room in order to get ready for the evening, wanting her to look her best in front of the guests, though, she thought ruefully, he would expect nothing less regardless.

When she arrived to her small room, she found a long, flowing evening gown made of a fine silver material, much finer than any other dress she was loaned during her stay. She glided her fingers across the smooth fabric cautiously, half expecting it to be enchanted with something, a trap of some sort. But, despite her suspicions, it was merely a finely made dress, befitting the noblest of elf-maidens, and not of those in servitude.

There was a gentle knock on her door before an elf maid entered politely, " _The King has ordered me to assist with your attire for the evening. Specifically your hair._ "

Idril regarded the beautiful elf-maiden curiously, " _Under what pretense? Surely I am more than capable of doing such things on my own? Why does my appearance concern him so to give such orders?_ "

Normally she wasn't one to ask such bold questions, but she couldn't help the nagging at the back of her subconscious that he was planning something. The maid, whom she recognized as Lethil, simply shook her head, " _The King has not given reasons as to why and I am not one to inquiry his orders._ "

Idril held her breath, thinking, before sighing in resign, " _Yes, if he does insist. I can manage to change my clothing just fine, but I will admit that I could use assistance with my hair if you would be so kind._ "

Lethil smiled in what one could only assume was relief, nodding her head as she went to the small vanity of the room and readied a curling iron, waiting for Idril to finish dressing. Idril waited patiently as Lethil worked her gentle and deft fingers through the soft locks of her hair, pinning, braiding, and curling her hair to perfection. So much so that Idril was hardly able to believe her own reflection; she had never felt so stunning in her life.

Idril grasped Lethil's fingers in her own gently with a smile, " _It's absolute perfection, you did a beautiful job. I am only sorry your talents were wasted on myself._ "

A pink blush flooded Lethil's features as she thanked her graciously before hurrying out, a guard making his appearance to her door no later, summoning her to the ball before the more prominent of guests arrived. Idril arrived promptly, feeling the King's scrutinizing gaze upon her as she settled with the musicians in their place at the side of the ballroom, her new silver dress swishing gracefully around her as she walked, giving her the confidence she needed.

As originally planned, they would work from the bottom up, doing small leisure pieces of music before doing the larger ones. Idril started at the piano, playing a short sweet piece that she had learned when studying medieval type pieces and modern adaptions. She could no longer remember which this one was but it served its purpose. She did a few other pieces she remembered from her lesson days, playing Chopin and Mozart classics.

She then played a soft violin duet with one of the other musicians called Resembool's Lullaby, something she had to quickly remember and teach from scratch which took more time and effort than she would originally want to endure, though, giving him credit, the Elf musician was a quick learner and very attentive. The next been more difficult to teach and remember, much of it being improvise, but the result having been worth the effort as the three of them played a trio of piano, cello, and violin to My Heart I Give to You, a more modern piece Idril had heard and fell in love with.

She could sense the intense stare of the Elven King as he watched the three of them, knowing fully well what he initially expected of her. She refused to comply until the end of her performance. Although the last piece had not been so difficult to reteach, it was exceedingly tricky and dangerous for her. But she felt the lyrics would be something that were both fitting and would quench both her own and the selfish King's desires. An adaption of Christina Perri's A Thousand Years...

By now all of the guests had arrived and were enjoying themselves, marveling at the new entertainment presented to them. Idril took a steadying deep breath as the piano and violin intro embraced her, just as she had taught them to play it. She let her voice carry through the room, resonating with every emotion of pain and longing she ever held back, closing her eyes in the sway of the music. It wasn't until she finished the very last note, the last cord resonating softly throughout the now hushed room, that she opened her eyes, her gaze instantly meeting with the burning blue orbs that belonged to the now mystified Elven King.

The intensity of their gaze was only broken by unexpected applause. Never in all of Thranduil's memory had he ever witnessed a party of his applauding an entertainer as such, though, it was rightfully deserved. He was taken aback by the emotion she had put in her performance, both troubled and bewildered at her lyrics; he did not recognize them and he wondered at the meaning behind such words. He stood from his throne and began making his way towards Idril, watching as the usual musicians took their proper place, Idril thanking the two Elven men that assisted her.

Thranduil kept a pleasant and composed expression as he reached the shorter female, his hands clasped behind his back, "That was a lovely performance, I expected nothing less that perfection and you did not disappoint me."

Idril, though obviously confused, smiled and bowed her head politely as she addressed him in Elvish, " _Thank you, my King. I am happy it was to your liking._ " She glanced up at him again, keeping her pleasant smile as she spoke out, " _I must also thank you for this dress, though it is much too lovely for someone as lowly as my stature._ "

Taking Idril completely aback, Thranduil smiled down at her, holding out his arm to her, " _Ridiculous; any escort of mine deserves nothing but the richest of clothing._ "

Idril tilted her head in obvious confusion, though taking his arm obediently as not to upset him, " _Escort? I'm afraid I do not understand..._ "

It was that moment that she was cut off by a familiar voice, understanding exactly what Thranduil had planned, Elrond smiling fondly at her from a distance, "Idril!"

Idril couldn't help the noticeable brightening of her expression when her eyes met the familiar Elven Lord, immediately going to give him a quick hug of affection, smiling up at the man she saw as a father figure, "Elrond! I did not know you were coming! _It is so good to see you again!_ "

Elrond smiled fondly back at Idril, " _Yes, it has been far too long since we last spoke. When I allowed you to roam to Mirkwood, I thought you would at least have the sense to keep in contact. Have you been so distracted that you have forgotten me? Rivendell hasn't quite been the same without your presence._ "

Thranduil watched the exchange carefully, his gaze fierce as a burning emotion went through his chest. Despite this strange pang of jealously he felt as he watched the two speak fondly, he composed his expression to that of polite pleasantness, " _Lord Elrond is an honored friend and guest to Mirkwood, his presences is indispensable._ "

Idril noted that his smile didn't reach his eyes and it sent a cold shiver down her spine, though she showed no sign of her discontent, Elrond quick to draw her attention away from such thoughts.

Elrond nodded formally before stepping slightly aside to introduce his companion Idril had not yet noticed, " _Idril, you have not yet had the pleasure of meeting Galadriel, Lady of Lothlórien._ "

Idril instantly went pale as she laid eyes upon the beautiful Elvish maiden, whose expression was filled with wonder and curiosity, speaking the one word that sent Idril's blood cold, "Aaron."


	6. Chapter 6

Idril's complexion paled notably under Thranduil's newly attentive gaze, but she was quick to regain her bearings, smiling politely at the beautiful Elf-maiden, " _Aeronwen_. Idril Aeronwen, my Lady. _It is very nice to finally meet your acquaintance. I have been hoping to speak with you for some time now._ " _Privately_ , she added in her head.

Galadriel paused for a moment, Idril watching her anxiously, before nodding her head once indiscreetly, smiling kindly at her, " _It is a pleasure to meet you as well; Elrond has told me many fond things of you. Although, he did not tell me of your musical talents; your voice is simply exquisite. Isn't that right?_ " She turned her gaze to the two male Elves who both nodded.

Elrond smiled, " _Had I known you possessed such talents I would have made use of them while I could; you have a lovely voice. You sounded absolutely delightful._ "

Thranduil's gaze weighed heavily on Idril as he stood beside her, " _Enrapturing._ "

Idril looked up at Thranduil in surprise, seeing an indescribable emotion in his blue gaze that she did not recognize, nor could she describe. Elrond watched the two carefully before smiling in content, thinking the two had hit it off quite well in his absence, " _Gandalf should be here any moment, I'm sure._ "

Thranduil broke his gaze from Idril's instantly upon being addressed, " _Splendid. His presence will surely make the evening more spirited._ "

But his thoughts were preoccupied with the slender figure that stood beside him. He had knowledge of her heavenly voice already, but he had not expected to be fully charmed by her musical talents and seduced no less by her newly groomed elegance.

He instantly blamed the wine for his lustful impulses, his curiosity about the human girl only flaring. He craved to know more about her and selfishly desired to see more of her amusingly rare expressions. It seemed, as of late, that he lived to catch her unawares, in hopes to catch a new emotion upon her features.

Despite this strong desire, his instinct told him there was something off about her, something different and unworldly that he could not yet explain, continuously reminding him that he needed to gather more information about her and learn her secrets. He saw that much in her face when Galadriel addressed her in such a strange way. He needed her to trust him completely and utterly in order to do so.

Idril, on the other hand, was trying to sort her racing thoughts, most of them streaming in the form of swear words, both Elvish and English. She needed to find a way to speak with Galadriel alone, without the ever so eager-to-snoop King watching her every move. Gandalf was coming as well! Maybe between the two of them, they could figure out why she was here... It was a shot in the dark but it was worth a try. But how to speak with them alone... Of course Galadriel had the telepathy thing, but that could only get them so far... they needed to talk properly...

Unfortunately, Thranduil barely left her side, so much so that her irritation was beginning to show in small signs: a brief frown, a twitch of the eyebrow, the occasional sharp look, and the likes. Her smile was notably becoming more and more fake by the moment, every time she would make a small excuse to leave, Thranduil would stop her short. At one point, when she could think of nowhere else to turn, she suggested she return to her maid duties, in which she was given the clipped reply that she was relinquished of her duties for the evening.

Having sensed her distress, Galadriel came to Idril's rescue, gently gliding her away to a vacant balcony with nothing but a smile and a few charming words towards Thranduil. Once alone, her smile disappeared, though her look was still a gentle one, "You are not of this world, are you child?"

Idril shook her head, a lump rising in her throat, "No, my Lady." It was such a relief to finally tell someone her secret, she hadn't realized the full weight of the burden until it was lifted a fraction from her shoulders. She felt like crying.

Galadriel's tone turned urgent as she glanced back at the ongoing ball, "We must speak with Gandalf of this. Does the Elven King know?"

Idril was only able to shake her head, not trusting herself to speak.

Galadriel's expression turned grim, "It may be wise to inform him soon, he is relentless when it comes to information he wants; he will not stop until he has a hold of it. What is your story thus far? How long have you been in this world—"

"Idril."

Galadriel hushed immediately when they heard the low voice of the Elven King. She must have known he was on his way for she had been speaking quickly in a hushed tone, so that even his elvish ears could not pick up their conversation.

Idril reluctantly turned to him, pretending that nothing was awry as she pondered at him curiously, " _Yes, my King?_ "

He gazed down at her intently, searching her gaze, "The night is almost out and we have yet to dance. I would be honored if you should join me."

Idril blinked in obvious surprise; her? Dance with him? What?

She could see his carefully feigned patience slipping as he 'smiled' down at her. She quickly took his outstretched hand and followed him, bowing a brief and polite goodbye to Galadriel as he led her to the dance floor, placing one hand on her him and the other in her palm, pulling her closer to his own much taller form.

Idril frowned nervously, "My King, I must admit to you that I am not the most gracious of dancers..."

"I have no doubt you'll be a fast learner in order to avoid embarrassment." His voice was calm and firm before he bent down to whisper in her ear, "Though if you end up stepping on my toes I will have no choice but to punish you..."

Idril's eyes widened in shock as she stared up at him, his expression undeniably amused. She couldn't help the pink tint of embarrassment that colored her cheeks as she averted her gaze down to her feet, praying to some unknown power to keep her footing properly. She could hear her other worldly best friend Kaitlyn whisper perverted thoughts into her head, making it much harder to keep her composure.

She kept glancing down at her feet nervously, wanting to get the steps right as he gracefully led her across the dance floor. She flinched when he stopped suddenly, making her stumble into his chest before he quickly snatched her chin in his grip, his eyes burning intensely into hers, " _Look at me, not your feet. I want to see your eyes as we dance._ "

Oh no. Her composure slipped for a few seconds as she stared openly at him, her heartbeat staggering twice as clumsily as her feet. _NO!_ She mentally slammed down a thick metal wall between them. She needed to focus on getting back to her own world, not on the pretty patterns in this gorgeous Elven King's blue eyes. When she remembered to breathe, she nodded firmly, " _Yes, My King. I apologize._ "

Thranduil stared down at her for a moment, contemplating the emotions he just witnessed, his mind torn between lustful thoughts and logical determination. He definitely drank too much wine. He knew this, but the longer he stared into the brown depths of Idril's eyes, his cares and priorities slowly slipped away.

* * *

Hours later, Idril almost sighed as she assisted Thranduil to his bed chamber, "Please rest easy, my King, you've drunk too much. I'll have you in bed in no time so please don't exert yourself."

As soon as she had him in his chamber, she sat him on the bed and began undressing him so she could change him into his sleeping garb like she had become so accustomed to. Once she had finished dressing him she stood back, "I shall be in my room if you need me."

Before she could turn to leave, he grabbed her wrist unexpectedly, " _Don't go. Stay here with me._ "

Idril gave him a confused look before gently removing his hand from her wrist, " _My King, you are intoxicated. You must sleep. I will bring you some tea._ "

He unexpectedly reached up and took a strand of her hair in his slender fingers, bringing it to his nose, breathing out softly, " _Such a lovely scent..._ "

Her eyes widened as a light blush dusted her features, completely taken off guard by the burning desire she so plainly saw in his clouded blue eyes, "M-my King—"

He looked up at her with a lustful gaze and cut her off, " _I very well know my limit, and I have surpassed it._ "

She looked at him in confusion, "What—?"

He swiftly cut her off by pressing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss, pulling her close so she was nestled tight against his body.

A surprised squeak left her throat as she stiffened, unsure of what to do, torn between sinking into the warm embrace or pushing him away. Before she had time to make a proper decision, she was suddenly trapped beneath him and the soft cushions of the bed with a dizzying speed.

Thranduil finally released her lips from his own and gazed down at her, " _You look absolutely stunning..._ "

The next thing Idril knew, she was trapped under the heavy embrace of a sleeping Elven King. She blinked in confusion, everything having happened so fast, she felt as though she had whiplash. She stared at his peaceful sleeping expression, absorbing every part of his beautifully fair features.

She couldn't help the soft smile that formed on her lips and she reveled in her inner forbidden fangirl and allowed herself to place a soft kiss on his forehead before slipping out from his grip, finishing her job of dressing him, and tucking him under the covers gently.

She slipped out of the Elven King's bedchamber, closing the door softly behind her, " _Goodnight, My Elven King_."


	7. Chapter 7

As soon as Idril was sure Thranduil was safely asleep in his drunken coma, she slipped away quietly to the garden where two figures were waiting for her arrival. Galadriel gave her a nod of acknowledgment while Gandalf gave her a warm smile, "You must be Idril Aeronwen, I've heard much about you from Lady Galadriel. I must say, your predicament is most... intriguing."

Idril nodded her head in both respect and agreement, "I suppose you wish to know everything from the beginning in detail."

Gandalf nodded slowly, "Yes, that would be the most helpful."

Idril took a deep breath before she spoke, attempting to calm her nerves, "I suppose I should start with my name. My real name is Aaron Wensril, and I am not from this world."

She spent the next hour or so explaining everything she could remember from before she arrived to the three years she had spent in Middle Earth. How this world was simply a fantasy in her own. How no matter how hard she tried she couldn't think of how or why she was here. Her hopes that they would have an idea about how she got there and how she could get back.

All the while, the Elven lady and wizard stayed silent, watching her intently, occasionally asking a small question, looking for more details in her tale. When she was completely finished there was a beat of silence, Aaron holding her breath until one of them chose to spoke.

Gandalf broke the silence first, asking the question she had not been expecting, "Why is it that you came here to Mirkwood? Why not stay with Elrond in Rivendell where we would surely be able to reach contact with you?"

Aaron couldn't help the sheepish smile that crossed her face, "Call it a selfish desire, but it was one of the things I wanted to see most in this world. Even with the knowledge of Thranduil's..." She paused to search for an appropriate word, "...unwelcoming attitude. I do not regret my time here."

Gandalf eyed her wearily, "You have not told the Elven King of your background."

It wasn't a question but more of an observation. It was true, there was no way she could deny it. Despite Thranduil's more than clever act of the night, it was quite obvious he had not the knowledge of her true upbringing. She couldn't imagine how he would have treated her had he actually known...

Galadriel finally spoke up, her voice cautious, "I still think it wise to tell Thranduil the truth. He is relentless and will search out the truth by any means necessary. I think it best for you to be weary so that you will not come to harm. There is no telling how he will act if he finds out you kept such a secret from him in his own realm..."

Gandalf nodded his agreement, "I must place my agreement with Lady Galadriel in this matter. It would be best he be told before he discovers it on his own terms."

Aaron's shoulders deflated, she had hoped they would advise her to keep the secret rather that give it away freely, "I... I think you are under the false influence that we are close companions. I have been working here as a maid since I have arrived, with the exception of tonight. I suspect his knowledge of my staying with Elrond and our pleasant relationship is what brought this unexpected facade... Elrond is not even aware of my background and he is as good as family in my eyes.. I am not sure how Thranduil would take such news..."

The two shared a look before Gandalf addressed her directly, "Very well, but make haste. The sooner the truth is revealed the better."

Aaron nodded, "I should take my leave; I must make the proper preparations for the morning. The Elven King will more than likely have a most awful headache and will more than likely be in a foul mood. I wouldn't want to be the cause of any unpleasantness."

The two nodded in understanding and watched as she excused herself, turning and fleeing back to the palace to loyally fulfill her duties as a maid. She had been getting less and less sleep the last few weeks, tending to Thranduil's needs and irrational commands. The party had taken quite a toll on her.

Once she was finished her usual routine duties she lay down to rest, sinking graciously into her pillows before slipping into a blissful yet short sleep.

* * *

The next few weeks went by rather quietly for Idril. Thranduil had taken it upon himself to join the raids into the forest to exterminate the spiders. If Idril hadn't known any better, she would think he was avoiding her as much as possible aside from their normal routine. His attitude had become much more clipped and cold.

One mid-morning while Idril served him his breakfast, he asked the most unexpected question, "How skilled are you in the art of combat?"

Idril blinked in surprise, "Limited in comparison to you or one of your guards I am sure. Though I am fond of archery."

Thranduil's thoughts instantly went to Legolas before he swiftly shook them away, "Starting today you will begin training then. I don't want to be held responsible for your death if you cannot defend yourself."

A shiver shot down Idril's spine at the thought but she nodded obediently, " _Yes, my King._ "

The arrangements were made quickly, Idril being given the proper garb for outdoor activities such as hunting and fighting. It was close fitting and comfortable, not to mention light. During the last three years she had been given the basic training for self-defense when she stayed with Elrond, having curiously wandered into the training quarters for the Elvish guards, wanting to learn whatever they were willing to teach her, which meant bettering her archery skills and teaching her sword basics. She found that her limited years in gymnastics helped immensely as well.

She hurried to her own sleeping quarters so she may change into proper attire for such activities, but halted in her tracks when she saw a new outfit laid out on her bed. She ran her fingers over the smooth fabric of a beautifully crafted Elvish hunting uniform; the tunic was a deep green with silver stitching weaving through the sleeves and bodice in intricate leafed designs that shined magnificently. There were black pants that looked smooth and form fitting, the same silver stitching running down the length of the pants seems. Next to the bed were sitting long riding boots that were made of a durable blackened leather, the craftsmanship exquisite and entrancing. The entire outfit looked far too expensive and finessed to be a simple hunting uniform. She would be afraid to wear it outside let alone ruin it. She quickly shook such thoughts away, knowing the King would be waiting her presence and slipped out of her already extravagant Elvish attire she wore as a maid.

As soon as Idril changed into her new hunting clothes and French braided her hair out of her face, she studied the resulting outcome in the mirror. She couldn't help the goofy grin that slipped onto her features; she looked and felt like an elven warrior and it was _bad_ _ass_. She whistled and studied her newly clad figure, appraising the tall black combat-like boots that went to her knee fondly. She was definitely going to enjoy this change of attire.

As she entered the training grounds, her stomach flipped in a mixture of nerves and anticipation. She wondered what the combat-skilled Elven King had in store for her. Her heart shot up into her mouth as soon as she spotted Thranduil, no longer wearing his usual royal garb, but now in a more form fitting outfit that showed off his figure and allowed more swift movement. She swallowed hard in order to gain her bearings as the moisture left her mouth, the king's icy blue orbs zeroing in on her as he noticed her presence. His cool speculative gaze sent unwelcome shivers over her skin.

Thranduil watched as she strode towards him, her steps faltering only slightly as she held his gaze. He watched as her dark eyes danced with life and curiosity, her pupils dilating briefly before she seemed to firm her resolve and assume a more confident and neutral expression. As he recognized all the signs of attraction, he couldn't help smiling inwardly to himself in self-satisfaction.

They broke eye contact when Thranduil turned to address a guard, one she recognized from brief encounters during her usual maid routine. It took a moment but she finally remembered his name properly and greeted him politely, " _Good day Estiel._ "

The blonde elf gave her a brief warm smile; he had always been one of the more welcoming of the staff.

Thranduil's body tensed when he heard the greeting leave Idril's lips, Estiel's smile dropping immediately as he bowed his head and mumbled quietly, " _Good evening, Miss Aeronwen._ "

Thranduil's eyes narrowed sharply before he turned towards Idril, handing her a light wooden sword he thought would suffice for training. For now anyways.

His voice was cool and demanding, " _We will begin with swordsmanship, followed by archery and ending with hand to hand combat. I will be testing your strength, agility and speed for future reference._ "

Idril swallowed nervously before nodding, " _Yes, My King…_ "

Idril took the sword gingerly with hesitation; she had held a sword before, in Rivendell, but it was never extensive training, merely how to hold the sword properly and how to block. She was never very fond of using a sword, it was heavy and awkward to her and she would much rather prefer to watch others who were actually skilled in the art.

She took a deep breath as she readied her sword, accepting Estiel's small reassuring smile with her own hesitant one, hoping she wouldn't embarrass herself too badly...

Thranduil watched the two expectantly, judging their actions and small exchanges with a hot suspicion that cut his gut sharply like an open wound. He tried to place a name to the new poisonous emotion as he watched Idril's unsure movements. He could see the nervousness radiating off the human girl in waves. He was slightly surprised when she took up the proper stance. At least she had some knowledge of swordsmanship, which would make it much easier to train her.

Idril and Estiel stood facing each other, waiting for Thranduil's command. Estiel's stance and background in fighting was intimidating to say the least, but she was determined to not make a fool of herself in front of Thranduil if she could help it.

Thranduil leaned forward slightly, his cool gaze assessing the two in front of him coldly, "Begin!"

Estiel instantly launched forward an attack, though Idril had expected this, it still surprised her slightly as she blocked it, her arms wavering slightly from the brute strength behind the attack. It frightened her to know that Estiel wasn't using his full strength on her and what it would be like if he had. The only comfort was knowing the swords were not real. She twisted away, parrying his wooden sword so it swept to the side of her, allowing her to land an unsteady kick to his side to distance him from her.

Idril continued on the defensive for a few minutes, though it didn't take long for Estiel to send her sword flying from her and pin her to the ground, her brown eyes staring directly into his green ones as she panted from the exertion.

Thranduil didn't look at all pleased from the encounter he watched, though he wasn't surprised either. Her swordsmanship was clumsy at best but she was able to block for a fair amount of time for a human girl. He dropped his hand from his face, which had been there as he scrutinized the scene, " _Enough. You may let her up._ "

Estiel instantly obeyed and gave Idril a helping hand, much to her gratefulness and Thranduil's displeasure. Thranduil stood and went back to the table full of miscellaneous weaponry before picking up a bow and satchel of arrows, handing it off to Idril roughly, "You said you enjoyed archery, maybe you have more skill there than what lies with your poor swordsmanship."

Idril looked down at the bow in her hands in what she could only describe as shame and embarrassment. She hadn't expected praise or sympathy, far from it, but it still stung with each word. She took a deep breath to sooth her nerves once more before taking the bow and arrows properly and stationing herself a fair amount of distance in front of a target.

She cocked an arrow onto the bow and pulled back smoothly as she aimed at the target. Thranduil watched her fluid movements, marveling slightly at her pristine technique. She seemed much more comfortable in her element than she had with a sword.

Idril released the arrow, bringing her hand back as she let go of the string, the arrow sinking into its target with ease, sticking out nearly half an inch from dead center. Her spirits and confidence back, she continued this until she ran out of arrows, hitting her target each time with praise-able accuracy.

A small smile formed on her lips in satisfaction and triumph as she turned to Thranduil before it instantly slipped away. He was watching her with such intensity she was surprised she didn't burst into flame on the spot. She felt like disappearing under such a gaze.

She spoke slowly and wearily, "Was my shooting not to your approval, My King?"

"Your shooting was excellent, much to my astonishment. But that is no matter, we will now continue on with your training."

Idril bowed her head slightly, " _Yes, My King._ "

She prepared herself for hand-to-hand combat with Estiel, only to see Thranduil standing in front of her instead. She dropped her stance, looking up at him in confusion, "Apologies, My King, but I thought we were continuing with hand-to-hand combat..."

He cut her off sharply, "So we are. You shall be training with me."

Her heart seemed to stop for a moment as a slow sinking dread began to set in, "Forgive me, I—"

Thranduil's gaze sharpened, "Is there an issue?" His tone highly suggested that there shouldn't be and there would be no arguments about it.

Idril bowed her head, her thoughts racing in all different directions, " _No, My King._ "


	8. Chapter 8

Idril bit her lip in hesitation, feeling conflicted about what she should do. It was highly inappropriate for her to actually fight the Elven King. But she was also in no position to refuse him... She took a deep breath and made a decision as she eyed the tall regal Elf in front of her, his stance and gaze menacing. She clenched her teeth and took a defensive stance, determined to dodge any attack he may throw at her without landing a single hit onto him herself. She silently prayed that her limited gymnastic skills might save her.

Thranduil's voice was dark and forbidding as he glared at her, "Begin."

He instantly launched forward at her, but Idril had fully expected the aggressive behavior and used his own momentum to dodge the attack. Despite this one successful dodge, the King was quick to recover and lashed out again, trying to throw her off balance with a well-aimed kick to her ankle. She was able to spin upon the hook, twisting out of harm's way as she steadied herself for another attack. She knew she wouldn't be able to withstand even the lightest of punches from her strong counterpart, so she would have to keep herself out of reach.

It was almost a dance, really: every move Thranduil would make towards the girl, she would dodge and skirt away, creating more distance between them. It was a rather interesting speculation to watch from Estiel's point of view as he watched Idril's careful movements and the growing frustration of the King as his own attacks became more aggressive and reckless. He was starting to fear the King would forget to hold himself back against the smaller and frail human girl.

Idril was starting to lose her energy, Thranduil's movements having quickened and become fiercer. She was half startled when he gave a yell of frustration and lunged to tackle her to the ground. She took the chance, having nowhere else to dodge and ran at him head on, jumping and pushing her hands on his shoulders to propel herself over him, flipping in the air as she landed hazardously behind him. Thranduil's foot struck out in a sweep behind him, hooking her ankle and tipping her off balance, a startled yelp leaving her lips. She braced herself for impact, only to feel a strong grip on her waist and a shadow over her. She cautiously opened her eyes to see Thranduil holding her inches above the ground with one arm, her body tucked snugly into his, their breath mingling as they panted from the long and tedious exercise, his other arm having expertly pinned her hands together.

Idril's eyes were wide and her breathing uneven, feeling uncomfortably hot where his grip was. Thranduil took a sharp intake of breath before releasing her hands and rightening her back to her feet, his hands leaving her waist.

His voice was cold and hard as he turned away from her and Estiel, " _That will be all for today. You may take a break for the remainder of the evening._ "

Idril stood there stunned, her heartbeat thrumming in her ears violently. She could still feel the warmth of the King's hands on her waist and his breath on her neck... She slapped her cheeks once hard with the palms of her hands and shook her head.

She jumped slightly when Estiel touched her shoulder, a reassuring smile on his lips, " _You did most excellent. I'm quite impressed you managed to evade him as long as you did._ "

Idril gave him a weak smile, " _Thank you, but I have a long journey ahead of me I fear. If you'll excuse me, I must go back to my duties—!_ "

She had went to take a step forward but her legs betrayed her and collapsed beneath her in a shaking heap. Estiel managed to catch her before she hit the ground, his arm snaking around her waist tightly while gripping her hand with his other. He chuckled lightly, " _You're body is in a shock from opposing the King. I will assist you to your living quarters._ "

Idril managed a sheepish smile and accepted his aide gratefully, thankful for the strong helping hand after what she had just gone through. She could still feel the heat from Thranduil's grip and the intensity of his gaze. The memory was enough to make her shiver despite the heat radiating from her pours, exhausted from the exercise; she had never been truly _athletic_ , she was only forced to do sporty activities as a child until she was old enough to make her own decisions and doom herself to the life of a lethargic, albeit healthy, nerd.

Estiel assisted her all the way to her living quarters, despite her mild argument that she was fine and could manage the walk herself. He only let go of her once she was safely at her door, giving her a crooked smile that would melt any girl's heart. Idril couldn't help the returning smile or the sheepish blush that appeared on her face, enjoying his contagious good mood rather than being on guard against Thranduil's sporadic mood-swings for a change.

He stepped back to a respectful distance as he smiled at her kindly, " _My duty is done, My Lady. Please take advantage of your freed schedule and rest. You'll need your energy for tomorrow._ "

For a moment, Idril could have sworn he winked at her, but maybe it was just the playfulness in his tone. Had any man in her world said such a thing the way Estiel had, they would have. But this was a Wood Elf guard of the great Mirkwood Palace; he was a kind gentleman that had every good intention of treating Idril with respect. It was a wonderful trait she could get used to, this chivalry.

Idril returned his smile and thanked him graciously, " _Thank you, I will heed your advice. I presume I shall see you tomorrow as well?_ "

The crooked grin returned, " _Yes, My Lady. Until then._ "

Idril watched silently as he bowed politely and walked away, going back to his normal duties, a small smile on her face as she closed her door.

* * *

Thranduil had been watching from the balcony of his study as Estiel assisted Idril away from the training grounds. He instantly looked away once he realized his knuckles had begun to turn white from his grip on the railing. He turned and began to pace within the confines of the room, away from the view of the window. Oddly enough, he did not wish to see the guard's hands touching Idril, something he had also noticed during sword training as well. The molten hot emotions he felt within him as he viewed their encounters sickened and discomfited him.

Why should he care of the interactions between a guard and a _human_ maid? It was nothing to him. So why was this strange jealousy threatening to strangle him as Estiel held Idril's waist? He squeezed his hand into a fist, remember the warmth he felt when he himself held Idril in his arms. He had gotten so frustrated at the human girl's evasion that he could not resist the temptation to pull her close and pin her down. The look of pure innocence in her large brown eyes was etched into his mind, her lush pink lips having been parted in surprise…

His lips tightened into a firm line at the mental image, a light knock on the door interrupting him, saving him from his own mischievous thoughts. His voice came out harsh and cold, "Enter."

An elven maid with long dark hair entered the study cautiously, looking almost scared as she averted her blue eyes, holding out a message for him, " _A message from human Lord Drace Lestat, he-he wishes to dine in your company the following week with your permission, Your Majesty._ "

Thranduil took the letter and skimmed it. Lestat was a human lord that had a vast reputation for trade in furs, alcohol, and jewels. He was also known for his greedy love for beautiful women. After his father had died, he took over the family estate and business and was still considered young in human years. He was a sickening man with little value in his eyes, yet Thranduil often permitted visits to discuss new gems on the market.

Thranduil set the letter down on his desk, turning his back to the maid and facing the balcony window once again, " _Very well. Send word that he is welcome in my halls and we shall await his appearance._ "

The maid bowed her head politely before scurrying out, " _Yes, Your Majesty._ "

Thranduil sighed, his thoughts far too clouded to properly think about a royal guest, his mind was too preoccupied on a frail human girl sitting in her bed chamber, her thoughts full of him as well.

* * *

It had been a long and busy week. Idril was having a harder time at hiding the dark circles under her eyes, her sleeping schedule having dwindled dramatically. She had been trying to keep up with her newly busied schedule of both her maid duties, her new combat training, and the now routine personal jobs Thranduil assigned her. Because her own bathing schedule was interrupted—thanks to a nosey Elven King—she now had to wake up even earlier if she wanted to be ready and prepared to start Thranduil's day while still fitting in some precious alone time.

Lethil, the maid that had helped her the evening of the ball weeks before, had been a huge help as of late. She was such a sweetheart and was eager to help Idril with any task at hand. Whenever Lethil would see Idril overwhelmed with multiple tasks, she would rush to her aide despite any task she was doing herself. The two had become fast friends in the Elven King's Palace. At first, Idril had been suspicious that Lethil was only becoming close to her to gather information for Thranduil, but those thoughts were quickly dashed away with the sweet innocent nature of the elven maiden.

Lethil was a beautiful individual herself with long, dark flowing locks that came to a rest at her waist, always twisted in elaborate and expertly pinned braids. She was partial to light colors in her wardrobe, always wearing soft pastel pinks, blues and creams that contrasted beautifully with her milky white complexion. Her eyes were a dazzling doe-eyed blue green, framed with thick, long lashes. She was also utterly terrified of the Elven King.

She had given the job of delivering a message to the king in his study earlier in the week and she had been so frightened she rushed to Idril's bedchamber, shaking and ready to burst into tears. Lethil was amazed at how easily Idril was able to interact with Thranduil and wished she could be as strong one day. Idril had just smiled politely at this and brushed her hair to calm her at the time.

On the other hand, the combat training had been going well; her sword skills had grown immensely more finessed than they had been before. She was also able to improve her archery and hand-to-hand combat skills so much so she could shoot at targets with a decent accuracy while moving (be it the target or her riding on a horse) and her old rusty gymnastic skills had come to her aide more than enough as she started to work at replenishing them. All in all, she hadn't felt this physically fit and exhilarated in a long while.

It wasn't until late in the afternoon before dinner was she called to Thranduil's study. Though she was curious, she suspected it was about the upcoming guest Lethil had told her was coming. Some human Lord from the South, or somewhere…

She gently knocked on the thick wooden door of the King's personal study before entering, " _You wished to speak with me, My King?_ "

Thranduil was standing with his back to her, looking out the balcony window where there was a clear view of the garden and the training grounds. Idril briefly wondered if he had been watching her train from that very spot this past week; after the first day of combat training, he had refused to be an active participant thereafter, all of her training had been done with Estiel for a few days before he was replaced by a new and much less friendly guard…

Thranduil paused, speaking before he turned to sit down at his desk, " _Yes. There will be an honored guest coming to visit Mirkwood. I want you to make sure he is comfortable and well treated during his stay._ "

Idril bowed her head, though slightly confused; had she not taken care of every guest properly before?

She couldn't resist the urge to probe the conversation, " _Have I not been serving to your approval, Your Majesty?_ "

Thranduil's expression remained the same, if not more perturbed, " _No, you have been performing your tasks well._ "

Idril allowed a small frown form on her lips, "I'm afraid I do not understand…"

Thranduil's tone was sharp as his eyes finally met hers, the first time since she had stepped into the study, "There is nothing to misunderstand. Lord Drace Lestat is simply an… uncommon guest, I merely wish to make sure you will be prepared to serve him properly."

Idril was almost surprised, though she didn't show it. It was almost as if he were warning her to be on guard… Regardless, she bowed her head respectfully, " _I shall do everything that is required of me, My King._ "

Thranduil only nodded, deep in thought as he dismissed her. He only seemed slightly relaxed that he was able to give her a 'warning' before Lord Lestat arrived. A smile of amusement flitted over Idril's lips as she left, finding such an obstinate desire to hide his worry for her almost adorable, if such a word could be used for the great Elven King. But, she would take his round-about advice and be on her guard for when this new guest arrived. She wondered what could be so bad about this Lord Lestat…

* * *

A few days later, Idril found out _exactly_ what was so bad about Lord Drace Lestat. He was a loud man in about his mid-thirties, but around the maids—or any woman really—he acted as though he were in his twenties. He liked to gloat about his wealth in front of the servants when Thranduil wasn't around to hear and he was _vulgar_.

Idril had caught him trying to grope Lethil when no one was looking in an empty hallway that lead to the kitchens. Lethil had looked ashamed and scared until she saw Idril, her face lighting up with hope and gratefulness.

Idril had to bite back the anger and disgust she felt for this man, smothering it with the very cooled-off attitude she used toward Thranduil, "Excuse me, Lord Lestat. Dinner isn't quite ready to be served yet. Might I ask you to wait in the dining hall? Perhaps you would like a tour of the gardens? I would be happy to find a guard to escort you." She was careful to keep a polite smile and her tone smooth and not chiding.

Lord Lestat almost looked like a child who got caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. That only lasted a second until it was replaced with a look of new intrigue, his attention now focused on her, the only _human_ maid in the palace.

He straightened himself and stepped closer to Idril, "I would be honored if you yourself would give me the tour, though I'm sure the beauty of the gardens could not compare to your own loveliness."

Idril suppressed the shiver of repulsion that desperately wanted to snake its way down her spine and smiled politely, "I would be obliged, but I must express my regret; I must help with the dinner preparations and attend to the king."

A slight look of irritation fleeted across his face before he swept himself in a dramatic bow, "Of course, milady. Another time, perhaps."

Idril smiled kindly at the lord, "Yes, perhaps. _Come Lethil, we have dinner to attend to._ "

Putting her hand on Lethil's shoulder, she smoothly eased the elven maid away from the uncouth lord and to the safety for the kitchens. She wasn't sure if he turned and left the other way, or if he was standing where they left them, watching them leave, but she wasn't about to turn around and look. Instead, she took the empty silver platter that was in her arms and angled it so it gave her a reflection of the hallway behind her. Lord Lestat was standing there, his eyes trained on her as she left, until they both turned a corner and were out of sight.

Idril let out a sigh of irritation, " _I swear, that man is the most vulgar, disgusting creature I have ever met._ " She turned her attention to Lethil, " _If he ever bothers you again, you come straight to me. I'll take care of him._ "

Lethil blushed and looked down shyly before nodding, " _Thank you, Idril._ "

Idril simply nodded before busying them both with preparing dinner, trying to erase the previous encounter from their mind temporarily. If anything major happened, she would bring it to Thranduil's attention. Otherwise, she would continue to take care of it herself…

* * *

The first attack happened after dinner the following day. All evening she had been evading his advances swiftly—much to his frustration—and now she was on her way to prepare Thranduil's bedchamber for the night. She had been caught off guard and suddenly disoriented when a dark figure came out of nowhere and pinned her to an alcove in the wall out of sight. Her eyes went wide out of surprise when her gaze met Lord Lestat's arrogant expression. She flinched slightly when he caressed her face with his disgusting fingers, a soft chuckle coming from his throat.

"Hello, my dear. We did not have the good fortune of meeting earlier, but as fate may have it, these are much more comfortable circumstances, wouldn't you agree?" Idril made an attempt to keep her features blank, but it was quite troublesome with how close he was, his left hand pinning hers between their chests while he continued to caress her hair and face with his right hand. She could smell alcohol on his breath and it made her sick. She made an effort to talk herself out of the situation, her muscles straining against his all the while, refusing to give him consent, "Excuse me—"

She was cut off suddenly by a cold voice that sent shivers down even her spine, "Lord Drace, what do you think you're doing?"

As soon as he had been on her, Lord Lestat was suddenly ripped off by a strong hand. Idril lost her balance, shocked by the sudden freedom, only to be caught by the strong arm of Thranduil. It took all the effort she had not to grip his robes in relief as she carefully steadied herself.

The instant she was stable, Thranduil dropped his arm and turned his cold threatening gaze towards the stuttering lord, "Lord Drace, you may be a guest in my home, but I strongly suggest you refrain from assaulting my maids."

The lord stuttered, trying to regain his lost dignity, "Forgive me, Your Highness. She was the only human maid so I thought that you had acquired her services for me…"

Thranduil's gaze seemed to make the temperature drop a few hundred degrees, his voice spitting venom, "You thought wrong. Idril is my personal maid and you will not so much as lay a hand on her. Is that clear."

Lord Lestat lowered his gaze and mumbled his understanding and apologies before fleeing down the hallway. Idril kept her gaze lowered as Thranduil walked past her to his bedchambers, letting her follow him at her own pace.

Once the door was shut behind them, Idril spoke cautiously and quietly, keeping her gaze down, " _Such measures were unnecessary, My King. You will have left a bad impression on your guest, I would have been fine—_ "

She was cut off by the sudden slam of Thranduil's hand on the door next to her head, making her take a sharp intake of breath as she met the King's furious gaze. She stood there frozen between him and the door, feeling like a small animal caught by the piercing gaze of a wolf.

Thranduil's voice came out low and as cold as steel, "I will not repeat this. You are _my_ personal maid. I will not allow such _filth_ to defile you or any woman of Mirkwood, Elf or not. Do not lower yourself to such _swine_. I will not tolerate such an injustice."

Idril felt as though everything in her body had stopped; her heart, her lungs, her mind, everything. She took a deep breath, disturbed by the new unknown feeling she couldn't name and tried to calm her nerves, "I'm afraid you place too much concern upon me, My King."

Thranduil made a small noise of irritation before grabbing her hand and holding up her wrist, showing the now blooming hand-shaped bruise, " _This_ is exactly why my concern is valid. _Do not think I did not see him watching you with such lewd eyes this evening._ " He released her hand and stepped back, looking down his nose at her, "What else has he done to you."

It wasn't a question, but a demand. Idril rubbed her wrists self-consciously, "Nothing, as of yet. That was the first and last."

" _I do not tolerate lies_."

Idril looked up in surprise, guilt tickling the edges of her thoughts, " _I swear to you it is the truth. He has not and will not touch me again._ "

Thranduil's mouth formed a thin line, " _Don't be so sure._ "


	9. Chapter 9

The next two days had been stressful on Idril, even Lethil not being able to help her. Lord Drace had been glowering at her scornfully after the incident and had been making work even harder for her. Thranduil didn't make it any easier either, calling her out of her work at random just to question her intensely about Lord Drace and her whereabouts. She was tired and fed up. She hadn't had a decent amount of sleep for weeks and it was beginning to show. Lethil had caught her dazing blearily out the kitchen window while she was supposed to be preparing food. She had been a large help covering the dark circles under her eyes, though, she had been continuously expressing her worry about her the entire time. Estiel, however, had shown it as a habit to be by her side or in the room whenever Lord Lestat was around, acting as though he were her personal body guard. Judging from the look Thranduil had given him, he had not ordered Estiel to do so, but he wasn't about to call him off either.

During the lunch hour she had had a dizzy spell that had surprised her so much, she had to steady herself against the wall. She caught the gaze of Lord Lestat and instantly rightened herself, pouring him a small glass of wine. She would have gone to do the same for Thranduil's cup, but ever since the incident after the ball, he had cut back on his alcohol intake, both to her amusement and embarrassment. Honestly, that might have been why he was in such a foul mood these past few weeks. Thranduil made it a point that he didn't want her accompanying them during their business meetings, and Idril made it a point to avoid them anyhow.

Whenever Lord Drace would call upon her, Idril would send in another maid, having them give the lord the news that she was indisposed with another task. Estiel approved of this decision immensely.

Thranduil, on the other hand, was trying to speed up any business matters as quickly as possible, but the insufferable man managed to drag out everything so that his stay would be longer. His patience was wearing thin, his distaste and hatred for the man having grown as soon as he learned of his treatment towards Idril. He was furious when he saw the man jump his maid in front of his own bedchambers.

It had taken every ounce of his willpower not to beat the man within an inch of his life, and again not to take Idril and shake her senseless later. How could she have allowed herself to get into such a position? How could he have allowed himself to lose his temper in such a way? Had it been another maid, he would not have been so angry, and he hated himself for realizing this.

It made him unbelievably irate to be so affected when others touched Idril. After seeing how well Idril and Estiel were getting along, he selfishly reassigned her combat training to another guard, now he threatened his own guest—despite the fact the man was a sniveling rat. When he saw how Estiel had taken it upon himself to guard Idril without his specific orders, he hadn't been pleased, but he wasn't going to call him off on account of Idril's well-being.

Thranduil grit his teeth and stood suddenly, startling Lord Lestat who had been droning on about trade affairs. His voice came out gruffer than he had intended, something he would regret later, "Excuse me. Let's finish this discussion after dinner, I have a previous engagement to attend to."

The Elven King turned and walked out of the chambers, not waiting for the Lord's response. He needed to be secluded and alone so he could let off some of his pent up aggression. He decided to go to the training grounds and practice some sword fighting to do exactly that.

* * *

Lord Lestat had been discussing how well his trade with the North had been fairing and the people of Lake Town after the Desolation of Smaug had been cleared up, having stocked up on his fair amount of precious gems from the dwarves when the King suddenly stood, interrupting him.

As Thranduil rudely excused himself, the Lord was left alone to fume and mutter quietly to himself. He was still sore about the incident that had occurred over Idril. He couldn't wrap his mind around why the Elven King would protect a mere human maid so aggressively. Why did he have a human maid anyway? Sure, she was a beautiful specimen, strangely as fair as the elves she resided with, but that didn't change the fact that she didn't belong…

Being so fervently forbidden from his own kind only made his desire to acquire the girl stronger. Sure, originally his goal was to take on an Elvish female, but he hadn't wanted to invoke the wrath of the Elven King. When he saw the lone human maid, he had figured she was his for the taking. It had been a long time since he had seen such a gorgeous human woman, and her coy, hard-to-get attitude only made him want her even more.

He would have to get to her when both the Elven King and that pesky male guard that was trailing the girl—Estiel was it?—were distracted or indisposed… A sickening grin spread across his features before he found a passing elven maid. He told her that the King required Estiel's presence immediately, what for he hadn't known. The maid bowed her head and scurried off to find the guard. He discreetly followed the maid; wherever this male guard was, Idril had to be close by. He followed her to the part of the palace reserved for servants' quarters, hiding in the shadows until they both rushed past his hiding place in search of the King, wherever he may be.

Once the coast was clear, he approached what he assumed was Idril's bedchamber...

* * *

Thranduil was in the training grounds, brutally fighting another guard with swords, the metallic clang of clashing swords filling the air as Estiel approached. Thranduil had sent his opponent's sword flying out of his hand. He turned to Estiel, " _What is it._ "

Estiel frowned, " _Did you not request my presence, My King?_ "

Thranduil frowned, " _I made no such request. Who told you this?_ "

" _A maid informed me you requested an audience, she did not inform me why, My King._ "

Thranduil glared at the male elf, " _Where were you previously posted?_ "

" _Outside of Miss Aeronwen's bedchamber…_ " He trailed of, his eyes widening at the sudden realization. Both guard and King turned and raced off the training grounds towards the servants' quarters.

* * *

Idril was in her room, having come back from bathing after combat training. She was currently brushing her hair, having changed out of her training garb and back into a flowing pink gown. Not her favorite, but it was comfortable and suitable for serving the King in. She heard the door click open and close, assuming it was Lethil she didn't turn as she continued to brush her hair, her back to the newcomer, " _Good evening, Lethil. Is there something I can help you with?_ "

She had grown accustom to Lethil coming into her bedchambers, she often would come to visit her when their work was done or when she needed advice or assistance with something. A small frown appeared on Idril's lips when her friend did not answer her, placing her brush down on the stand, " _Lethil?_ "

She had begun to turn around only to have a large hand cover her mouth, a strong arm wrapping around her middle so her back was pressed against the front of a male body, "Finally, we're alone…"

Idril froze as soon as she heard Lord Lestat's voice, a mixture of anger and fear rising in her chest before she started to struggle in his grip, biting down on his hand hard, making him let go of her. He reached out for her again, grabbing the back of her dress. She pulled hard, making the back of her dress rip as she stumbled away from him, a small scream leaving her lips as she held the front of her dress to herself desperately, turning to face her attacker.

She tried to assess how bad the situation was and if she could escape, but he was between her and the door. There weren't many places to run to or things to hide behind in her small bed chambers. She looked for anything she could use as a weapon but other than the candle sticks that were on the other side of the room, there wasn't much she could use…

Lord Lestat was sucking the blood off the wound she had made on his hand, throwing the scrap of fabric to the side, "Don't play coy, you bitch. We both know you want this. Why else would you have stopped my advances on the other maids? Be a good little girl and come to me, I'll make you feel like you've never felt before…"

Idril's hands started to tremble, unable to hide the look of disgust on her face, feeling nauseated by the thought of his filthy hands touching her. Her heart was racing as she back away slowly, her thoughts racing as she desperately wished someone would come and help her. Where had Estiel gone? He had been standing guard outside of her door…

Her thoughts were interrupted when her back hit the wall, a small gasp hissing through her clenched teeth. Lord Lestat took advantage of her distraction and lunged, gripping her hair and dragging her to the ground, pinning her down with his legs as she screamed, tears welling in her eyes as the pain shot through her scalp.

He started ripping the skirt of her dress as panic set in. Without thinking she screamed out the first name that came to mind, " _Thranduil!_ "

At that moment there was a pounding on the door, Thranduil's voice on the other side, "Idril!"

Estiel and Thranduil broke the door open to find a distraught Idril pinned by Lord Lestat. In an instant, Thranduil was ripping the Lord off of Idril with one hand, sword poised in the other, fury and death in his eyes. Idril scrambled to her feet, immediately seeing the harm in letting him kill the Lord, no matter how much she wanted his death. She gripped the sword, barely able to take it from his grasp, but that didn't stop him.

Thranduil slammed the Lord into the wall, holding him by his throat, Lestat gasping for breath as he desperately clawed at the King's hand. Thranduil's voice was furious and deadly, "You _dare_ so much as lay a _finger_ on my maid after I warned you? How _dare_ you assault my personal maid! A lowly _rat_ like you deserves nothing but _torture_ and _death_!"

Estiel had helped Idril to her feet and placed a robe around her shoulders to cover her tattered dress. She reached out and pulled at Thranduil's arm to stop him, " _My King, no! Do not do anything you will regret! There are better ways to settle this!_ "

Thranduil clenched his teeth, his body shaking from anger, his icy blue gaze veering to her, the venom back in his voice, " _And what would you suggest, pray tell!_ "

The ugly feeling she had felt back in Thranduil's bedchamber after the first attack shuddered through her body and she recognized it this time; she felt an intense fear towards the Elven King. She shook the feeling and held her ground, " _Did you not train me in combat?_ "

Thranduil made a scoffing noise, " _Which quite obviously has been in vain._ "

Idril shook her head, " _Both times I was caught off guard while I was performing my maid duties. I will_ _ **not**_ _be caught off guard this time._ "

The look Thranduil gave her was nothing short of surprise. He contemplated what she was implying before releasing the struggling Lord, letting him fall into a gasping heap on the floor, "Very well. I will spare this _swine_ and let you have a proper duel as his punishment, but if you so much as _waver_ , I will not hesitate to _finish it myself._ "

Idril nodded, refusing to break eye contact, not wanting to give him any reason to doubt her resolve of her decision. Thranduil looked down his nose at Lord Lestat, motioning Estiel to take him out of the room, " _Take him to his bedchambers and make sure he doesn't leave. I want him to be ready for his punishment in the morning._ "

Estiel did as he was instructed and dragged the man to his feet and out of the room roughly, his own expression disgusted. He shot Idril a concerned look, who gave him a small smile of reassurance. She realized her hands were still trembling along with her legs so she gripped the robe tighter around her to hide it. Thranduil sighed and reached up, wiping a rogue tear that had slid down her cheek without her realization, his voice much softer than before, " _Are you hurt?_ "

She looked up at him in surprised before pressing her lips together, not trusting herself to talk, nodding her head vigorously as she forced herself to smile.

For a moment, it looked as though he was going to say something but thought against it. He cleared his throat before turning away to leave, "Get some rest, you'll need it." Without so much as a backward glance, he left her alone.

Once she was changed and put back together, showing no traces of what had happened earlier she snuck out of her room quietly. Sitting alone in her room where it had happened, she couldn't calm her nerves quite yet. Instead she made her way stealthily to an empty sitting room that had a piano. This room was reserved for when the King wished the privately entertain a small group of guests.

She slid her hand over the smooth keys, taking a deep breath before she sat down. She started to play softly, deciding to sing Christina Perri's Human, allowing herself to lose herself in the music.

Thranduil was rushing down the hallway, slightly irritated; a maid had informed him that she had seen Idril leave her room and had gone this way. He didn't slow his pace until he heard the soft sound of music, knowing exactly where it was coming from. He stopped at the doorway, unable to interrupt her as she sang, her voice full of sadness and anguish. He watched her silently, wanting nothing more than to go to her. To do what exactly, he didn't know. Instead, he listened until he was finished and stood back out of view on the other side of the hallway, watching as she sighed and made her way back to her bedchamber, looking calmer than she had.

He decided to let her be and returned to his own bedchamber, the words she had sung repeating themselves in his head…

* * *

Idril didn't sleep well that night. She kept thinking about how close she had been to being raped and the furious look on Thranduil's face. By the time morning had come, she had never felt so exhausted in her life, not even when she had pulled all-nighters with her friends back in her world. She dragged herself out of bed, smacking her cheeks hard once with the palms of her hands to wake her up.

She bathed and got ready for the day, remaining silent as she bathed and dressed Thranduil, who seemed as tense as she did. It was almost stoic with how silent he was, his blue eyes like a quiet raging storm as he gazed at her while she worked. She quietly excused herself to prepare for the duel with Lord Lestat, Thranduil watching her as she went, already dressed in his training garb.

Idril was still as she waited for Lord Lestat on the training grounds. She had chosen hand-to-hand combat instead of swords, still feeling awkward in using one despite her progress. She was aware of Thranduil's intense gaze on her, not letting it get to her.

She looked up suddenly when she spotted a scared looking Lord Lestat walking onto the training grounds, escorted by a stern looking Estiel. As soon as Lestat caught sight of Idril, his mood seemed to change drastically, so much so, he started to laugh, " _This_ is who I'm fighting? I must say, I was worried for a moment."

Estiel caught Idril's eye and she nodded, letting the giggling Lord go so he could walk towards her, "Come now sweetheart, you can't honestly think you can face me. It isn't proper for a man to fight a woman anyway."

Idril's eyes were shadowed by her hair, blocking anyone's view of her expression, making Thranduil tense as the Lord got closer to her, his hand gripping his arm rest until his knuckles turned white.

Idril didn't move as the Lord advanced. He stopped a few feet in front of her, leering at her, "Why don't you leave the Elven King and come be _my_ personal maid."

Idril's hand twitched slightly at her side and she stepped forward until she was standing in front of him. She placed her hand on his shoulder, making him give her a confused look. His confusion was quickly replaced by shock as she swiftly hooked her foot over his ankle, pushing his shoulder down and kicking hard, making him flip and land on his back hard on the ground.

Thranduil finally caught a look at her eyes; she looked like she was about to kill him. Never before had he seen such unfiltered rage in the girl's eyes. She had always been calm and composed.

Idril stepped back, letting the Lord get to his feet as he cursed her, "You bitch—"

Before he had the opportunity to move, she pulled her arm back and threw her whole weight into a punch, hitting him square in the jaw, making him stagger back, her glare menacing.

He wiped the blood from his mouth and finally took her seriously, lunging at her aggressively. She dodged, landing a kick to his ribs as she twisted out of his path. Lord Lestat coughed and cursed, his face twisting in anger.

Thranduil watched anxiously as this continued for a few more minutes, the fight reminding him of the one he had fought with her, only she was actually making an effort to hurt this man. She was momentarily caught off guard, having stumbled backwards, blocking a hit with her arm. She gritted her teeth to ignore the pain and brought her knee into his gut, making him double over, giving her access to land a hit to the back of his head with her elbow to knock him off balance. She took the opportunity to twist his arm behind his back as he fell onto the ground, holding his arm as she dug her knee into his back.

She smiled sarcastically down at him, her eyes cold as she gazed at the man beneath her, "I believe this match is over, Lord Lestat."

It took a moment, but he finally stopped struggling. She released him and faced Thranduil, who had stood and approached them. Idril gave Thranduil a smile that showed how proud she was, and she was; she had single handedly kicked Lord Douche Face's sorry ass. She was feeling pretty good about herself, a bit dizzy, but good.

Thranduil gave her a small smile before his attention was quickly diverted to something behind her. Before she could react, he had moved forward and landed an expert punch to the attacking Lord's temple, knocking him out cold. Thranduil tsked in disgust as he turned away toward the guard.

Idril looked at the unconscious lord in shock, taking a slight step back as a wave of dizziness washed over her. Before she knew what was happening, everything was black…

* * *

Thranduil was giving orders to the guards, instructing them to remove the Lord from the area and to prepare for his departure from the kingdom when he heard the panicked voice of a female, " _Idril!_ "

Thranduil whirled around to see Idril crumpled on the ground unconscious, both Lethil and Estiel rushing to her aide. He ran to her side, " _What happened to her? What's wrong?_ "

The maid looked as though she would burst into tears at any moment, " _She suddenly collapsed…I-I think she hasn't been getting enough sleep, My King…_ "

Thranduil's eyebrows furrowed and he lifted Idril into his arms, growling at Estiel, " _Send word to the Healers in Rivendell, I'll take her to the infirmary myself._ "

" _Yes, My King!_ " And at that he was gone, running off to complete his order.

Thranduil looked down at Idril in his arms as he carried her off, noticing the dark circles under her eyes for the first time. How could he have missed such a detail? He should have expected this to happen; she was only human after all. She couldn't handle all of the jobs she had been given. Guilt bit at his thoughts bitterly, he only hoped he wasn't too late to fix his wrong…


	10. Chapter 10

Thranduil had rushed Idril off to the infirmary as quickly as possible, laying her on a white linen bed, Elven healers instantly rushing over to examine the unconscious girl. As soon as Thranduil felt Idril was in good hands, he went off to send a soldier to a neighboring village for a human healer, wanting to make sure that Idril would be healed back to her normal buoyant self.

Thranduil was left to pace back and forth outside of the infirmary for hours until finally, when it was dark, the guard he had sent out came back with an elderly looking human woman, looking far too frail to be a reliable healer. She looked tired but alert, not even bothering with formalities, "Where is the girl?"

Thranduil didn't have time to worry about the impertinence this woman was giving him, leading her straight into the infirmary without a word. As quickly as the old woman could handle, she made her way to the unconscious girl lying on the bed, frowning at her pale, sickly color. She began to examine her new patient, snapping grumpily at the extra company, "Out! I must examine this girl properly without disturbance."

Thranduil was furious, "I have no intention of vacating, old woman. Lest you continue to make a mockery of my status, I suggest you continue to work under my speculation."

The old woman turned and glared up at the Elvenking, "If you refuse to vacate, I cannot work on this young lady. Seeing as she is not your wife, I very well can order you out upon examination, Your Majesty."

Thranduil clenched his jaw tightly, fighting his rising anger at the old woman. Only when he glanced at the sickly pale Idril did he give a curt nod and turn away, barking orders for the elven healers to leave in Elvish, shutting the door securely behind.

He took to pacing the hall restlessly, waiting for a word, a message, any sign that Idril would be okay, but the doors remained closed and forbidding. It was hours before the old woman reemerged from the infirmary, looking gravely at the pensive Elvenking. Her frown only deepened when he stepped closer, anxious to hear a verdict, "How is she?"

The old woman continued to eye him warily, "She will be fine. She has been over exerting herself for far too long and has become weak with lack of sleep. A few weeks of rest and good nourishment and she will return to normal. She has a fair bit of bruises, but they shall heal naturally. How did she come by you? What is her status in this kingdom of yours?"

Thranduil ignored his own irritation at the woman, "She came to me from Rivendell, where she was residing with Elrond. She offered me her services as a maid for her inconvenience and lack of announcement upon her arrival and has been doing such duties since."

The woman frowned and shook her head, muttering in disapproval, "This poor young lady ought to be a guest, not a servant. She's been abused the frail bird." To Thranduil she said, "I will continue to watch over her until I am assured that she is in full health."

Thranduil straightened, looking down his nose at the old woman, "What goes on in my kingdom is none of your concern. See to it that she is brought back to full recovery. Once she is healthy enough to leave the infirmary I will move her lodgings to a more suitable location." He took a step towards the door only to be blocked by another one of the woman's insistent glares, "Move aside, I wish to see her."

The old woman pointed a gnarled finger at the ElvenKing, "In her current condition she will see no one. Not until she has undisturbed rest."

A growl sounded through Thranduil's throat but he merely clenched his teeth and strode down the opposite length of the hall towards his study, if not only to rid the old pest from his sight and remove the temptation of slitting her throat then and there. The woman needed to be unharmed in order to care for Idril, his hands were tied for the moment.

* * *

It was days before Thranduil was able to see Idril again. He had been biding his time by going out and slaying spiders alongside his men, if only to relieve his tension and anxiety. He cursed at himself again and again, humans were so frail compared to elves. What would Elrond do or say once he found out what Idril had really been doing all these months? No, Elrond was not his concern. Thranduil was the King and Idril was in his realm abiding by his rules. He had done nothing wrong.

Even so, when Estiel had let it slip that Idril was up and moving again, he rushed to the infirmary as fast as his legs could carry, not particularly caring if the act was undignified. He skidded to a halt at the doors and peered in, only to find it empty save for the old woman. She was working on some knitting, not even looking up as she spoke out to the ElvenKing, "She isn't here, Your Majesty. She went off in search of a library or so I was told."

Thranduil held in his curse before he swiftly turned and strode away, taking extra measures to keep his speed in check, searching for the human girl that had been unknowingly consuming his thoughts.

* * *

Thranduil stood in the shadows watching silently, unable, for whatever reason, to bring himself to make his presence known to the mortal girl huddled on the windowsill.

Her excited brown eyes drank in the words off the pages hungrily, a small smile flitting over her lips frequently, as though she found what she was reading personally amusing, something Thranduil himself would not understand. After a moment, a soft unexpected giggle escaped Idril's throat. A wondrously beautiful sound upon the Elven King's ears it was not a sound often heard by him or many others in the kingdom, and he secretly wished to keep it that way.

Idril tipped her head back with a smile as though she were reminiscing in some fond memory, her goofy unrestricted grin slowly fading into an emotion more recognizable by the king. Her eyes were filled with a soft sorrow and longing mixed with other conflicted and unreadable emotions as she gazed forlornly out the large window.

But above all the things he had witness within the few moments he watched her, he was most surprised when he watched glistening tears silently stream down her cheeks, flowing heavily without warning or any signs to an end. Her shoulders slowly began to shake, her lips trembling from holding back her sobs before she pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in her arms, her body raking from silent sobs, the book she had been reading forgotten on the window seat beside her.

Heavily conflicted and confused by what he witnessed, the Elven King felt it best to leave her to her emotions uninterrupted, not wanting to intrude on such a personal scene. As he strode through the empty halls aimlessly the only thought that crossed his mind was if he was the cause of such suffering...


	11. Chapter 11

_Darkness…_

 _Pain…_

 _Loneliness…_

 _Darkness…_

For three days Idril's life consisted of sleeping, enduring strange nightmares she could never remember as she thrashed awake, eating, bathing and then repeating until slowly she regained the color in her complexion and her dizzy spells went away. Though, no matter how much rest she had, there was no ridding the hollow and tired look from her eyes.

The old healer—Evern, she later found out—stayed by her side the entire time, talking nonsense and grumbling her displeasures about the palace and the Elven King. As kind as the old woman was, Idril needed to get out of her company, feeling as though she would go insane if she didn't move and see another face and soon. After some soft coaxing, she was able to convince the woman to let her out of the infirmary if not for a few hours, saying she wished to see the library so she might bring back some books to occupy her remaining time there in the infirmary.

She had run into Estiel on her way, wondering through the halls towards the library, taking her sweet time. While chatting with him, she found out that Thranduil had been constantly asking to see her before deciding to go out and slay spiders until the sky turned dark, giving her the nagging feeling that it was her fault the King was throwing himself into such activities… She continued the conversation with more pleasant topics until they reached the library, where Estiel bowed and left her to herself politely, which she greatly appreciated.

The palace library was immaculate, full of books, tables, winding staircases that lead to upper landings with, surprise surprise, more books. She couldn't help the giggle that escaped her throat when Disney's Beauty and the Beast popped into her head. Did that make Thranduil the Beast? She certainly wasn't the Beauty.

She gently ran her fingers over the spines of books, gingerly caressing each title before she plucked a book off the shelf at random, letting fate decide for her. She gave a bitter laugh at the thought 'fate'. Did she really have any fate in this world other than how she arrived? She practically knew this world inside and out as well as the characters, so it was almost like cheating at a game of chess.

Aaron sighed and made her way to the closest window seat, settling herself upon the cushions before she took a look at what the 'fates' decided would be worthy written material for her. Surprisingly enough, it was a book about Elvish Folklore, so, not a complete and utter waste of interest.

Some of the legends were mixed with stories she recognized from the Silmarillion, though, the stories didn't quite match up. She began to wonder if J.R.R. Tolkien knew that his characters were rewriting his stories as folklore. The thought was enough to make her giggle and lean her head back, imagining the old author fighting with his 'rebellious' characters. The image quickly shifted to the times she and her friend group got into heated debates over the books and movies, throwing whatever junk food they had been munching on at each other…

Her chest hurt. Everything hurt. Not in a physical sense, she supposed, but the pain was still real. It ate away at her carefully constructed walls, stabbing its greedy claws into her heart with each eroded brick. Aaron pressed her lips together in a tight line as she gazed out the window overlooking the gardens. Why was she here? Did her friends miss her? Did they even know she was gone? Was she dead? How entirely fucked up with that be? After all she went through, she had finally gotten her life back on track and then she was whisked away to this world…

Her shoulders started to tremble as tears started to flow down her cheeks endlessly, and for once, she let them. She pulled her knees up to her chest and sobbed silently into her crossed arms, letting the fabric of her sleeves soak up the evidence of the tears, her body raking and trembling as she went to the darkest, most secured part of her mind, flashbacks and memories pouring in around her senses…

 _Her little brother was crying and sniffing as he clutched onto her desperately. The sight nearly broke her completely as she rocked him back and forth gently, cooing him. She looked up and her gaze landed on the photo of her dead mother, smiling out at her as if nothing was wrong, like she wasn't gone, like their father wasn't an alcoholic abusive monster. Like their step mother wasn't weak and obedient, bending to his abuse and will, taking all the blows herself, like she was protecting them from him._

 _That's what snapped her. She could hear her step mother crying as her father screamed at her. She gently took her crying step brother by his shoulders and looked him in the eyes, "Stay here, okay? Big sis is going to fix this. I'm going to make everything all better. I promise, but you have to stay in here until I get you." He whimpered but nodded before shuffling onto her bed and burying his face in her pillow._

 _Aaron boldly made her way out of their tiny shared room and to her parent's bedroom, where the sound of her father's angry voice was the loudest. Where the sound of her step mother's weeping was the loudest. For a moment she hesitated, she was only 11, what was she thinking? She couldn't fight with an adult… could she? She heard something shatter from the other side of the door and before she could turn around, she banged on the door as hard as she could three times. For a moment, there was a silence so heavy, she could almost feel it trying to smother her, telling her to run, run as fast as she could. But she held her ground, clenching her fists so hard she could feel her nails prick her skin._

 _She didn't wait for the door to be opened for her and kicked it open so hard it bounced against the wall with a sharp bang. Her step mother was huddled in the corner of the room by the bed, her eyes large and red rimmed, her face tearstained, new bruises welling up on her arms and her cheek. Her father was glaring at her with a clenched jaw and wild eyes as he growled at her, "Go back to bed you bitch."_

 _Aaron clenched her jaw but stepped forward, letting her glare cut into her father's, "No. I'm not going anywhere."_

 _Her father whirled on her, "What did you just say to me?!" He started stalking towards her in rage, but Aaron still held her ground._

 _"I'm not moving, and you aren't going to touch me or anyone else in this family," she hissed, "And you know why? Because if you do, I'll call the police and have them throw your ass in jail."_

 _Her father stopped a few feet away from her, his eyes livid: never before had she ever spoken back to her father, let alone loosed a cuss word. Aaron was surprised at herself, never having allowed herself to swear. But this was different. She needed him to take her seriously._

 _"I'm tired of your attitude. You're going to clean up your shit behavior and clean yourself up so you can start acting like the man mom thought you were and take care of your god damn family properly."_

 _That's what broke the camel's back. Before she could move, her father grabbed her by the shirt front and slammed her into the door, his eyes livid. Aaron winced, feeling blood trickle slowly down the back of her head as she clenched her teeth, holding in the hiss of pain. She glared fire up at him, "You touch me, you touch Michael, you touch Linda, and I will_ _ **end**_ _you. You can't hide bruises. You can't hide blood."_

 _They stood like there for a moment, glaring at each other before he dropped her, grabbing his coat and his keys before slamming his way out the door and to his truck. Aaron let loose a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping slightly before she went over to Linda, her step mother, "Are you okay?" Her voice came out soft and hoarse, but there was a new added edge to it, a new strength that hadn't been there before._

 _Linda nodded and got to her feet shakily. Aaron nodded once before she turned around back to the door, "Pack what you can, I'm calling my uncle. We're leaving here and never coming back."_

Smaller flashbacks:

 _Aaron's aunt welcoming her and her step family with open arms, her uncle taking their bags inside._

 _Her aunt forcing her into gymnastics for a few years, making new friends as they stretched together, won tiny ribbons together._

 _Playing games with Michael, teasing him during family game night, letting him beat her at video games._

 _Linda moving out and taking Michael with her, having found someone else, wanting to make a happier family for herself and Michael. Wanting to cut out everything that reminded her of those awful years… including Aaron._

 _Michael crying and clutching to her as he used to, refusing to say goodbye before Linda had her uncle drag him to the car._

 _Books and notes surrounding her, overflowing from her desk and onto her floor as she studied profusely, throwing herself into school activities. Volleyball. Choir. Piano. Orchestra. Book club._

 _Baking and cooking with her aunt, constantly making food for some event, some celebration._

 _Making the Honors list._

 _Graduation, her friends crying and taking pictures with her, making empty promises to keep in touch._

 _Moving into her new dorm room, learning that her roommate was a huge Lord of the Ring's nerd, just like her._

 _Late nights up with her new group of friends, watching movies, arguing about books, throwing food at each other and laughing. Studying together for finals. Dragging each other to conventions and book signings._

 _The car accident. Everyone dressed in black as they gave her their condolences, sharing stories about how loved and cherished her aunt and uncle were. How dearly missed they would be._

 _Late nights full of nightmares, crying into her friend's shoulder before going out and getting ice cream, wet laughter filling their dorm room as they both shared jokes and memories of the summers they spent at her family's house over the summers._

 _Finally getting a job at a coffee shop, night after night, cup after cup, customer after customer. Numbness as she smiled politely at every customer, filling out their order._

 _The cute guy with dark red curly hair and freckles, tugging at his turtleneck and adjusting his glasses constantly as he ordered, nervously making small talk. Coming in every single day she had her shift. The way his face turned an adorable red when she wrote her number on his to-go cup._

 _Late night kisses. Goofy grins. Soft skin. Clumsy hands. Playful teasing. Happiness…_

 _Darkness._

 _Nothing._

 _Confusion._

 _The night sky._

 _Elrond._

 _Middle Earth…_

Aaron hiccupped and flinched as her memories took a new turn, playing over the last three years she was in Middle Earth…

 _Waking up and panicking, realizing she was in Rivendell, actually IN Rivendell. Nearly hyperventilating as she tried to calm herself, telling herself she could get through this, whatever this was, and she would get back home by any means necessary._

 _Elrond, treating her much kinder than she could have ever hoped, letting her stay as a guest, treating her as if she were his daughter._

 _Watching to male Elves of Rivendell train in the barracks. Feeling nervous and giddy when they allowed her to join them, being gentle and kind when they patiently taught her the basics. Laughing with them over ale afterwards._

 _Joining the fairer, female elves in the gardens, learning about their herbs and plants, the concoctions they used for their hair, their skin. How they did their exquisite stitching. The songs they sang, the instruments they played. All of them teaching her the Elvish language, teasing her for her occasional mistakes but helping her learn nonetheless._

 _All the kind things Elrond had done for her. All the kind things Estiel had done for her. All the kind things Lethil had done for her. The kind things Gandalf and Galadriel were willing to do for her…_

 _Thranduil…_

 _His eyes, usually cold and calculating, but surprisingly warm and gentle under private circumstances. Their deep, icy blue hue that she had never seen before and probably never would unless she met Legolas, which wasn't likely._

 _The fierceness he carried for his people, wanting to protect them at all costs._

 _The way he relaxed in her presence when she bathed and dressed him, like he trusted her to no end, letting her see the most vulnerable parts of him…_

Guilt bit and slashed at her chest and she let out a small gasp and the pain. The king had saved her, protected her and treated her well, despite what others might thing, and had started to trust her. And she was abusing that trust. She was keeping secrets from him. From everyone. If Thranduil truly knew that she was from another world, if any of them knew that she could tell them everything about them and Middle Earth, what was to happen in fifty years when the Lord of the Rings would truly start… That information would be dangerous beyond belief.

She looked at her reflection in the window. Aside from her puffy red eyes and tear streaked face, she didn't look like her old self. She looked much fairer. Older and younger at the same time. Like her eyes were old and wise but her face, her body, refused to age beyond twenty…

If she went back now, would her friends even recognize her? Was she truly the same person she was as she left? She shook her head and looked down at her lap, at the fine lavender fabric that covered it. No, she wasn't the same. Middle Earth had changed her, had aged her in a way that her world wouldn't have. If she were being completely honest, she would miss Middle Earth as much as she did her own world.

 _What if I stayed?_

The thought came unwelcomed, unexpected. Like a small voice in her head that wasn't entirely her own. She had never considered staying as an option, and why should she? What did she have here? She shoved against the thought that wanted to whisper the Elven King's name sweetly in her ear. No, that was a selfish and inappropriate reason to want to stay. Just because she might be attracted to the Elven King? No. Absolutely not. Besides, she was human. She would die long before he would ever begin to have a shred of feelings for her, be it lust or love…

 _Then why did he kiss you? Why did he protect you? Why was he so angry-_

Aaron shook her head violently, blocking out the thoughts, sealing the wall back up, brick by unbreakable brick, her voice coming out as a whisper, "No. I have to go home…"

* * *

Thranduil went back to infirmary, the image of Idril crying burned into his memory, the sight still filling his eyes even as he approached the old woman, his features hardening into the cold regal mask he always wore.

His voice came out colder than he had intended, though it didn't matter, not to this frail human mortal, "How is Idril's condition?"

The woman paused her knitting to cut a bold glare at the Elven King. He didn't know whether or not it was brave or foolish. He decided to ignore it, "She's healthy. She's been resting and eating like a good little tart and getting her color back. Though…"

She paused and set down her knitting completely in her lap, looking fully at the King now, her gaze suspicious.

Thranduil quirked an eyebrow as he looked down his nose at the old woman, his voice coming out in a sharp growl, "Though?"

The woman merely gazed at him for a moment, as though she were assessing him before she answered slowly, going back to her knitting as she glared at the wooly yarn, "She won't be human for long."


	12. Chapter 12

Thranduil's gaze widened as he whipped his head towards the old woman before his eyes narrowed into a deadly glare, " _What_ exactly do you mean by _that_."

The infuriating old woman continued on with her knitting, her brows scrunching together, "I didn't believe it at first. I always thought it was an old myth women made up to pass the time, to revel in their lewd fantasies over handsome Elvish men. But no, that child won't be human for much longer…"

She finally raised her glare up to the Elven King, "You've imprinted on her."

Thranduil froze, his icy glare remaining on the woman, incredulous of the lies she was spouting. Imprinting? Was there even such a thing possible? Such an animalistic trait saved for infant creatures.

The old woman continued, "Perhaps 'imprint' isn't an appropriate word, but whatever it is, it's strong. Like an invisible chain you two have bonded together. Before long, she will be as fair and Elven as you are. There won't be anything human left save for her memories and emotions." By the graveness of her voice, Thranduil could tell she didn't approve. What utter nonsense.

His voice came out in a hiss, "I could have you executed for spewing such lies, human."

The old woman blinked and looked up at him, as if she were seeing him, truly _seeing_ him, for the first time. Then she grumbled and went back to her knitting, "If you can't realize the truth in front of your nose then it's none of my business. Carry on denying your own feelings like you are, it won't be long now."

A growl left Thranduil's throat before he swiftly turned and strode towards the door, "Once Idril is healthy you are to take your leave immediately. You have overstayed your welcome, woman, be gracious I'm allowing you to leave with your head."

He didn't stay long enough to hear the old woman's cackle, no, he was blindly walking down the palace halls until he reached his study, the woman's words echoing through his head: _She'll be as fair and Elven as you are._

* * *

Idril stood frozen in the hallway, leaning against the wall outside the infirmary, having broken into a cold sweat. She gazed down the hallway where Thranduil had disappeared, her mind still not able to process what she had just overheard. _Human_. She was _human_. She couldn't be turning into an Elf, how was that even _possible_? Nowhere, absolutely _nowhere_ in any of J.R.R. Tolkien's books had that ever happened. Only when an Elf gave up their immortality to live with a human, never the other way around…

She didn't know how long she stood there frozen in the hallway, but as soon as she recovered her breathing, she stepped into the infirmary, her gaze on the floor. Evern looked up with a smile that quickly vanished at the sight of Idril's expression, "What's wrong, child?"

Her voice was barely audible, barely a whisper, "Is it true? What you said? Am I becoming…will I not be human…?"

Evern's expression turned grave and solemn but nodded, "I'm afraid so dearie."

Confused tears stung her eyes and she dragged a hand through her hair, "How. How is that possible?"

Evern put down her knitting completely and patted the bed beside her, "Let me tell you a story."

Idril hesitated but nodded before obediently going to sit down, sinking into the cushions of the bed stiffly, unable to release the tension in her shoulders. She sat perfectly still and waited quietly for Evern to tell her tale.

"Now, there is an old legend, myth, fable, whichever you prefer to call it, much older than myself that has flitted through generations and generations. I've always believed it to be woman's prattle about silly nonsense so forgive me if I'm vague. A long, long time ago, it was said that one of the Elven prince's fell in love with a human woman—something about her being beautiful beyond measure or gloriously generous, which is, of course, ridiculous considering how much fairer the elven women are, but anyways. This sort of match was highly unheard of and frowned upon greatly by the royal family, as one might expect. Humans don't live even half as long as the immortal elves. The prince had wanted to give up his immortality to be with this woman, but could not, seeing as he was the heir to the throne, or some nonsense of that sort. He took her in to live with him in secret anyways, sharing his love with her for as long as he dared. Now, it isn't clear how it happened, but it's said the stars took pity on the Elven Prince and cast a spell on their royal bloodline as a gift. I don't know much anything about stars but the Prince began to covet his human love with a fierce passion, the longer and stronger his feelings grew for her, the fairer she came to be until she was transformed, for lack of better word, into an Elven maiden." She paused briefly to eye Idril wearily, "Now, I don't know about all this rubbish concerning stars or if such a tale is even true, but it seems as though part of the fable is right. Something in the Elven King's blood is turning you over, into one of them."

Idril's mouth had gone slack in disbelief, "Like some sort of evolutionary gene that makes it so the royal line never dies out because of whom they wish to _mate_ with? That is such utter ridiculous nonsense! Things like this don't just _happen_. I am a human _maid_ and a temporary one at that, the _Elven King_ has no feelings of any sort for someone like me and never will in a million years, long after I'm dead and but dust in the ground."

Evern's eyes narrowed slightly, "Calm down, dearie. Don't fret yourself pale, you just got healthy again."

Idril took in a shaky breath before letting it go, laying back on the bed as she placed a cold hand on her forehead. She didn't know how to feel about this. How was she supposed to feel about this? It was like she had become a corny clique from one of the fanfictions she read. Her thoughts were jumbled and her emotions were wreaking havoc in her mind. She tried to calm her breathing as she attempted to sort through her emotions one at a time:

Panicked: if she turned into an elf, would she be able to go home? Would it be too late? Was it too late?

Sad: What if it was already too late and she couldn't go home?

Angry: How had she not noticed? How could she allow this to happen?

Fearful: What would the Elven King do now that he knew this? Would he toss her out? Would he force her to stay? Would he kill her?

Sad: Would he get rid of her? Would he hate her?

 _Happy:_ _If I become an Elf, does that mean I can stay with Thranduil longer?_

Idril froze. Had she really just thought that? No. She's just confused. Frightened. Scared. She was so panicked that her thoughts carried away from her. That's all. She built up her walls higher this time, brick by brick, closing herself off from each and every emotion and locking them away deep inside until they couldn't touch her anymore. She opened her eyes slowly and took a deep breath. Her face completely calm, her emotions completely numbed. She felt nothing. Her thoughts were clear.

She slowly sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, "Thank you for telling me this. I'll take care of it. Thank you for bringing me back to full health, I'll be sure the king pays you for your trouble."

Evern's gaze was cautious and weary. She didn't like this development but it wasn't any of her business. Not now. The girl was in full health and she was on order to leave. So she'd leave, "Don't trouble yourself dearie. I'm just glad you've got your color back."

Idril took care of making the arrangements of seeing her off, making sure she was indeed paid for her trouble, waving at the woman with a polite smile as she left, wishing her a safe journey and hoping she would reach her village before dark.

Estiel came to her as soon as the woman was out of sight, a crooked smile tugging at his lips, " _You look well. I'm glad you're better_."

Idril offered a smile back, " _Thank you. I feel better_." It wasn't a lie. Her dizzy spells were gone and she felt more rested than she had in a while, but she had more problems to deal with now than she had before. In a way, she felt heavier.

Estiel gestured behind him, " _I've been instructed to take you to your new bedchambers, milady._ "

Idril blinked in surprise, " _And what was wrong with my last chamber?_ "

Estiel grinned, " _Your last residence was in the servants' quarters, milady. You've been moved to somewhere much nicer upon order of the King. And Miss Evern. Once you're settled, the King wishes to speak with you in his study._ "

Idril's lips tightened slightly but she managed a small smile for Estiel before following him to her new lodging. It was much more spacious than her last room and was far nicer. Far too elegant for a human maid. It wasn't just one room either. There was a bedchamber and then attached to it a drawing room with a fireplace and then further on a dressing room that reminded her of a walk-in closet, filled with clothes far too extravagant for a _human maid_. Panic threatened to overcome her like bile at the back of her throat but she forced it down again.

She made sure her few belongings were in a secure place—a small leather bag she had brought with her to Mirkwood—before setting off to meet in the King's study.

She stood before the door for a full minute before she could bring herself to knock gently, telling herself she would pretend nothing was amiss, she knew nothing, everything was fine, she was healthy…

But still, her heart practically rattled inside of her self-made prison when she heard Thranduil's voice telling her to enter. She took a deep breath and pressed her clammy hands against the smooth wood of the door before stepping inside, closing the door softly behind her, " _You wished to see me, My King?_ "

His back was to her, his hands clasped behind his back as he gazed out over the balcony. He didn't turn to her when he spoke, " _A letter has arrived for you from Rivendell. It's on the desk._ "

Her heartbeat jumped and she saw his hands clench slightly. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and steady her heartbeat, no doubt the King being able to hear it. She looked over to the desk and froze when she saw the open letter, neatly addressed in Elrond's sloped handwriting.

She gingerly picked it up, as if it would burn her to touch and skimmed the writing quickly before relaxing. Elrond had said nothing about her being from another world or anything that might suggest it. Merely that Galadriel and Gandalf would like to visit with her in Rivendell, where she was dearly missed. She didn't say anything about the King reading her mail. No matter how much he might trust her to bathe and dress him without killing him, he still didn't trust her.

 _As he shouldn't._

Idril smothered the incessant voice that whispered in her head and slowly set down the letter, schooling her features into something that might resemble restricted excitement, " _Is that all you wished to speak to me about, My King._ "

His shoulders tensed slightly and he turned to her, his face a cold mask. Just like when she first met him, " _No. You are relinquished of your regular maid duties. From now on you will be my personal handmaiden and mine alone. When you are not attending to me, you are a guest_."

Every single muscle in her body screamed to tense but she forced them to stay loose, itching to roll her shoulders but instead she pinched the skin of her thigh, the action hidden by her flowing skirts, before she graciously bowed her head, " _You are too kind, My King_."

He studied her for a long moment before turning back to the balcony, as if to hide his thoughts from her. Not that he ever had problems with that before.

Idril hesitated before speaking again, " _And… of Rivendell…?_ "

Thranduil's voice came out sharper than she had expected, " _What of Rivendell._ "

Idril's eyes narrowed slightly, " _Am I permitted to travel to Rivendell, or must I seek your approval first?_ "

He whipped his head around to glare at her, surprised at the boldness of her tone and the glint in her eyes. She continued, " _Is there any reason why I should not be able to leave for Rivendell?_ "

Thranduil's jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck and cheek dancing as his eyes burned into hers. He spoke through his clenched teeth, " _And if I wish you to stay?_ "

Idril blinked, surprised at the honesty in his words, before she spoke softly, " _I will come back. It's not forever._ "

The Elven King held her gaze without speaking, studying the depths of her molten brown eyes, the softness the showed, and the steel strength beneath. Her thick dark eyelashes that brushed her cheeks when she blinked. Her full pink lips that look smooth and soft to the touch…

His throat tightened and he looked away again, turning his back to her completely as he stepped out into the evening air, the sun setting just beyond, " _Then leave._ "


	13. Chapter 13

Idril left the Wood Elf palace early the next morning. She only looked back once to gaze at the magnificent stronghold before she turned and made her way to Rivendell, escorted by Estiel and two other guards. She had no intention of returning.

* * *

The king missed her touch that he usually felt with the daily chores he had given her of bathing and dressing him. He had lived most of his long, long life without it, and yet barely half a year with the girl was enough to make him crave her touch now that it was gone. He told himself he was being ridiculous, that she would return in a few weeks. Elrond and Lady Galadriel surely had a good reason to call upon the girl… Even so, these thoughts did not keep the king from ordering a few guards to ready his mount and prepare for the journey to Rivendell.

* * *

It was a week's journey to Rivendell from Mirkwood. A week of travelling. A week without seeing the Elven King of Mirkwood. Along the journey, ivy creeped up along the path, forming thick walls of green that clung to the sturdy trunks of trees all the way up to the canopy. As if the forest was protecting itself from the prying eyes of travelers, hiding the mysterious secrets of nature beyond. It was as claustrophobic as it was mystic.

This would be good for her, if she could spend a week without the King, she could spend the rest of her life without him… She shook her head at the thought, a familiar ache filling her chest. One step at a time then. Regardless of her own downtrodden feelings, she smiled brightly when Elrond greeted her from Rivendell's entrance, the familiar elven statues and waterfalls a welcome sight. Weary from the long travel but relieved to see a familiar face, she was escorted to the counsel room where Galadriel and Gandalf were waiting for them, Galadriel's expression kind and open while Gandalf's was set in an observatory curiosity, puffing at his pipe thoughtfully.

A hard lump rose in her throat but she did her best to swallow it down and smile politely at the two, the numbness inside of her growing to cover the dull ache she felt from knowing why they were here, what they wanted to speak to her about.

Galadriel's smile faltered slightly but Idril continued to smile, be damned if she showed her doubts, shoving the thoughts aside and thinking only of going home. She and Elrond took seats at the table, Elrond folding her hands and getting straight to business, his expression becoming stern but his voice gentle, "Galadriel and Gandalf have been so kind as to inform me of your situation Idri—erm—Aaron."

She smiled softly, "You may call me Idril still if you'd like…"

Elrond nodded, clearing his throat uncomfortably before continuing, "I am assuming you informed Thranduil of who you are and where you are from as well."

All three of their eyes trained on Idril as her face paled, sheepishly looking down at her fiddling hands, her voice coming out soft and hoarse, "No, I did not."

The three frowned but decided not to question the matter any further.

It was Gandalf that continued from Elrond, "It seems there is an issue with sending you back to your world so far. Opening portals such as this is a fragile business and no easier than bringing back the dead… Though, we believe we are closer than we were before when we first spoke."

Aaron's hands went cold but she didn't show her panic as she nodded, listening intently.

Galadriel studied her for a moment before speaking, "Are you sure your wish is to return home, child? Do you not wish to stay here instead?"

Aaron bit her lip, her thoughts of the day she left the Mirkwood Palace flooding back to her, Galadriel's eyes flashing slightly as she saw all of this. She stoned her resolve and straightened slightly, shaking her head as she continued to stare at her clasped hands, "No, I need to go home. I'm human and I don't belong here. In my world, this isn't real, only fiction, a story to entertain our fantasies. Things are so different between our worlds, and I know so many things about this one that hasn't even happened yet that I'm afraid of upsetting the balance of this world. It wouldn't be fair to all of you or the people of my world. Besides, I—"

She was suddenly cut off by a loud slam as the doors flew open and banged against the wall. They all startled and turned to see a furious and stony faced looking Thranduil, his icy blue gaze glaring cold daggers into Aaron that she could feel pierce her chest straight into her heart as she stared with wide brown eyes. His jaw clenched and he simply turned on his heel and strode back out the way he came.

* * *

This couldn't be. He hadn't heard right. She was lying. She wasn't from another world, she belonged here, she belonged with _him_ , in his palace in Mirkwood. The twinge he felt in his chest wasn't real, the numbing pain and anger clouding his thoughts couldn't be true. Why? Why had she lied to him? No, she never lied. She simply withheld the truth. Idril—no, _Aaron_ —had always been bathed in secrets, he had sensed that from the very beginning. When had he begun to overlook that aspect about her? When had he stopped caring? Stopped trying to dig those secrets out from her? It didn't matter now. None of it did. That was made obvious to him. He would go back to the only place that mattered, the only people whom he'd ever care for and protect. Queen or no.

* * *

Aaron jumped from her chair and immediately chased after the Elven King. She didn't know what she was going to say, or how she was going to look at him. How he could stand to look at her. But she had to try. She couldn't just leave things like this. He didn't deserve that, she believed that wholeheartedly.

She caught up to him and was bold enough to grab his sleeve and tug, breathless as she said his name, "Thranduil—"

Before she knew what was happening, she was pinned against the wall, her shoulder blades aching and her head spinning as she stared face to face with a furious Thranduil, " _What gives you the_ right _, the_ privilege _, the_ nerve _, to use my name?"_

Aaron swallowed hard, a lump rising in her throat, her chest feeling unbelievably heavy as tears pricked her eyes.

She could do this.

She had to do this.

She had to leave.

To go _home_ , where she belonged…

Didn't she?

She sucked in a shaky breath, " _I apologize, My King—"_

Thranduil pressed her back into the wall harder, his face inches from hers, " _I am not your king._ "

Aaron's breath hitched but she swallowed and tried again, her voice soft and her heart racing, " _I wish to apologize for not telling you_ —"

" _What do you want?_ "

The question surprised her, "I want to go home…" Aaron said meekly, though at this point, she didn't really know where 'home' was.

A growl ripped through Thranduil's throat, " _Then_ _leave_."

This time, the words made her flinch. She dropped to the ground as he suddenly released her, as if touching her defiled his hands, and stormed off without so much as a backward glance.

Aaron stayed where she sat on the ground, vaguely registering the footsteps of Elrond, Galadriel and Gandalf as the neared her, her vision blurring from tears as she pressed a shaking hand to her mouth. It had all happened so fast, and yet…

Just like that: Thranduil was gone.

He had walked out of her life, as if she meant nothing.

* * *

The meeting had been postponed and for days Aaron stayed in her room, staring out her window blindly. Every so often her sadness would overcome her and she would sob until there were no more tears. That's when the numbness would set in. For days she barely ate, she barely slept and she didn't talk.

It was only when Galadriel came in on the eighth day that she finally spoke, her voice hoarse and quiet, "I have to go. I have to go back to Mirkwood."


	14. Chapter 14

Estiel knocked on the door to Thranduil's study, entering when he was bade to, avoiding eye contact with the King entirely, " _Lady Aeronwen has arrived at the front gate, My King._ "

A muscle in the King's hand flinched as he continued to stare out the balcony, his gaze distant and cold. Otherwise he did not move, " _Bring her here._ "

* * *

When Idril entered the study his back was facing her, " _Why did you return._ "

Idril flinched at his tone. She deserved this. She should have told him. She should have told him so much sooner, " _I wanted to explain myself_."

He whirled to face her, his expression dangerous, his eyes livid and burning a cold blue fire that seemed to scorch and freeze her veins at once, " _You had an abundant amount of chances to explain yourself._ "

Idril didn't drop his gaze but her voice came out weak, " _I know…_ "

The Elven King clenched his jaw, his words hissing through his teeth, " _Then why_. _Why even come here. If you wished to return home so badly without my knowing about you then you could have stayed in Rivendell, where Gandalf and Galadriel surely would reach you sooner._ "

Idril couldn't help the bitter laugh that choked up her throat, " _Gandalf said the same thing…_ "

He didn't laugh. He continued to glare down at her. Any and all trust she had gained from him gone. As if it had never been there.

 _Maybe it hadn't._

" _I was being selfish. I wanted to see the beautiful halls of the Woodelf palace for myself… I wanted…_ " Her voice cracked and she stopped, her eyes started to burn and she blinked to make it go away. She took a deep breath before continuing softly, "I don't know why I came back. I'm sorry. I'll leave."

Thranduil stepped around his great wooden desk with a predators grace as she turned to leave, his demanding words freezing her, " _Did you not once think of me? Of the effect you might have on this Kingdom? Or did that not matter at all to you. Perhaps this palace was merely your concourse as you bid your time._ "

Aaron clenched her fists tightly, fighting the tears that were stinging her eyes, her back still turned to him unable to face him properly. Her thoughts were yelling at her to lie and say yes—that none of this had mattered to her, but it was too much. She couldn't hold in her feelings any longer.

The words burst out of her once Thranduil gripped her shoulder to turn her towards him, letting his icy glare cut through her, " _Do you think I am so cold a person? Do you think I have not fallen in love with the halls of this palace? The people in it?"_ Her voice cracked again, "Do you think that I have not desired you? Do you really believe that I feel absolutely nothing when I bathe or dress you? When you look upon me with something akin to fondness? If we're speaking about desire, I would have to desire _women_ to not find you attractive: you're too damn pretty for your own good! If it weren't for your menacing disposition, I would not have been able to hide it so easily! If I didn't know any better I would have broken a long time ago."

Thranduil's face was openly shocked, his grip having dropped from her shoulder as he watched angry tears flow down her face. The room went quiet for a moment before Aaron continued softly, "That's why I have to go back… I need to leave before I become an elf because I couldn't handle falling in love with you. I don't belong here and you'd never come to love someone as lowly as me. A human." She spat the word as if it were vile in her mouth.

Thranduil finally spoke, his tone slow and cautious, " _I'll ask but once more. What do you want._ "

Aaron glared at the floor, her vision blurry as she watched her tears plink onto the smooth wood beneath her feet. She closed her eyes, her voice came out no louder than a whisper, "I want to be like water… I want to slip through fingers but hold up a ship…"

The room held a deafening silence that threatened to choke Idril and snatch the air straight from her lungs. She felt the lightest of touches along her jaw that made her breath hitch and tentatively look up. Her gaze was met with a softer regard than before. It was the most vulnerable she had ever seen his eyes and the sight made her freeze, standing as still as a statue as he gently stroked her cheek with his thumb, tipping her chin up slowly as if he'd frighten her otherwise. Everything inside of her seemed to still as he leaned towards her, not so much as daring to breathe as his nose gently caressed her own.

Thranduil watched prudently as her eyelids fluttered and her pupils dilated, her lips parting ever so slightly until he finally allowed himself to capture her lips with his own, the feeling soft and inviting as he found himself winding his other hand around her waist to pull her flush against him, reveling in the warmth and tenderness of the embrace.

When he pulled away from the kiss, Idril was left dazed and breathless, their foreheads resting gently against each other. His breath tickled her lips as he whispered the words she never thought she'd hear or want so badly, " _Then stay._ "

* * *

Idril hadn't been able to say no. She hadn't wanted to anyway. Not when being in the Elven King's arms felt so wonderfully _right_. Like it was where she truly belonged. His gentleness hadn't lasted long either. Before long, they had ended up tangled in the silky sheets of the Elven King's bed, all soft skin and no pauses. Nothing clumsy, nothing she had ever experienced before.

Thranduil nuzzled his nose into her hair, his arms wrapped around her possessively as he dozed lazily next to her, " _I suppose I should call you Aaron from now on._ "

Idril turned her head to kiss his neck, smiling softly as he made a content humming noise, " _No. I haven't been Aaron for a long time now… Idril will do nicely._ "

Thranduil chuckled softly, a rumbling noise that came from deep within his chest and made her skin tingle. He gently nibbled her ear, " _It seems there have been quite a few changes tonight…_ "

Idril giggled, his breath tickling her ear. During their nightly activities her body had made the final change to become an elf, while neither of them had noticed it initially she was too tired to investigate it now, " _Changes for the better_."

Thranduil huffed sleepily into her hair, making her smile as she snuggled closer into his broad chest, sighing contently as his warmth surrounded her like a barrier. It wasn't long until she was asleep, mumbling softly, " _Goodnight, My King. My love. My Thranduil._ "

* * *

Aaron woke to the sound of beeping. Her body felt stiff and when she opened her eyes, she saw the white wash walls and ceiling of a hospital room. Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper as tears spilled down her cheeks, " _No_."


	15. Chapter 15

Idril blinked, her vision blurred by tears as she heard her heart rate speed up on the monitor, turning her head frantically to look around, looking at the tubes and needles feeding into her pale skin and thin hands. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't be in a hospital. She couldn't have just dreamt all of Middle Earth, all of those experiences, what she finally _had_ with Thranduil. It couldn't just be… _over_ … it couldn't just be the figment of her imagination.

Her attention snapped to the side when she heard a familiar voice, her chest aching in pain as her eyes met the wide bespectacled gaze of her old boyfriend William. His dark red hair still curly, his fashion still consisting of sweaters and collared shirts. But now…The adorable freckled boy she had fallen in love with so long ago was now a man... a new sharpness to his features and scattered stubble along his jaw.

"Aaron? You're awake!" He shuffled awkwardly instead of rushing to her, grabbing her hand and running his fingers through her hair like he used to. No, she could see, he had changed as well. He was no longer in love with her. But he waited nonetheless. That's what made it so much worse.

A nurse rushed in at that moment, the astonishment on her face barely hidden as she smiled at her, "Aaron, good morning. How are you feeling?"

She took a shaky breath and swallowed, her mouth dry and her voice hoarse from obvious disuse, "I've been better…" Her body felt stiff and heavy and she barely had the strength to lift her arm. She barely had the emotional energy to even try, that familiar numbness filling the void inside of her chest, serving as a self-protection against the agony that wanted to rip her apart.

The nurse made small talk in which Aaron listened to but didn't participate as she checked her vitals, leaving the room to go fetch a doctor and leaving the two ex-lovers alone. She heard Will clear his throat and Aaron closed her eyes, leaning back against the pillows weakly, her voice soft, "What happened…"

There was an obvious pause before Will cleared his throat again and took her hand awkwardly, his voice the proper amount of sympathetic as he answered, "It was the night we all went to the renaissance fair… Your dad… he was drunk and he followed us all night and did a hit and run once he saw you… He's been caught and he's in jail now but… we weren't sure if you were going to make it…"

Aaron nodded, taking in the information quietly, "How long?"

There was another pause, "About three years…"

Aaron pressed her lips together in a tight line, refusing to let her tears fall as she bit her tongue. It was the same amount of time she had been in Middle Earth—no, how long she had _imagined_ being in Middle Earth. Maybe that was her mind's way of coping with the situation of a coma. Of course _she_ would concoct something so much more dramatic than those silly 'out of body ghost coma' movies.

Her heart constricted once more but she pushed all those thoughts away. She would get over it, she would learn. This would be good for her… She needed a good dose of reality anyway… She would have to prove she could be well enough to rejoin society, otherwise she'd be treated as a nutcase, she knew that much. And what was more real than getting back on her feet and rejoining modern society?

Instead of crying and folding in on herself like she wanted to, like the gaping hole in her chest begged her to do, she smiled and gave Will a joking laugh, "It's been a while; you look different."

She could tell with the moment of pause how sad the joke was and how much everything had really changed between them but after that moment he smiled, his shoulders relaxing as he squeezed her hand gently like old times, "Yeah."

* * *

 **Six Months Later**

* * *

Aaron sighed heavily as she closed her apartment door behind her, lugging her satchel and slinging it onto the nearby couch before leaning against the door, closing her eyes as she listened to the faint music thumping through the ceiling from the apartment above her. _Six months_. It had been six months since she woke up from her coma. She had two jobs, her old job at the café and a new one working at a book store nearby. She was back in college, shakily picking up from where she left off before. Her friends had taken care of her car and had done everything they could to help her rejoin into society, telling her everything she missed, helping her out with managing her schedule between work and classes, inviting her out or stopping by her apartment with take out.

Most of her friends were either finishing their last years of college or graduated and out in the working field. A few of her friends had even moved away or got married. It was William and her best friend Kaitlyn that spent most of their time with her, though, she did end up breaking up with William. She would have felt bad for keeping him tied to her, especially now that they had both moved on. They were still friends though, which was good. Aaron didn't know what she'd do if she lost yet another person in her life.

She was depressed. She knew it. She hid it. Mostly because she didn't want to worry anyone and partly because if she told anyone the real reason they'd think she was crazy. And maybe she was. Every so often she would catch herself saying something in Elvish or picking up her old habits from the Palace, waking up at ungodly hours of the morning or cleaning things without being asked and really wasn't her job to do. Before long she decided to get another job at a cleaning agency part time, throwing herself into her studies in her spare time. Just like she used to before the accident.

Now her friend Kaitlyn was banging her way through her apartment door, per usual, evidently sick of her hermit attitude, "We're going out tonight. You don't have work and knowing you your homework is already done, so we're going out. Will is going with us and so is his new bae Jessica. Nothing wild, nothing expensive, just going _out_ and spending time together. Have some food, and a few drinks. You seem sad lately, you could use a good cheering up."

Apparently 'no' wasn't an answer in this case, and she knew she couldn't refuse. Before she wouldn't have had a second thought. She had no reason to say no anyway. She couldn't tell her 'sorry, I'm still broken hearted over a fictional Elven King and don't feel like going out, maybe another time though'. Even _she_ would think you were crazy.

So, Aaron let her doll her up, doing her makeup as Kaitlyn fiddled with her hair and picked out a nice evening dress for her. She winked and whistled when she stood back and observed her handiwork, "You look pretty damn good for a real-life sleeping beauty. Did you see that movie? The one with Angelina Joelle? We should watch that sometime."

Aaron looked at her reflection in the mirror. It was true, she had regained the lost weight and colour she had lost while in the hospital, and with the makeup you could hardly tell she barely slept these days. If she smiled you might even think she was happy. Normal even. Sure, she wasn't up to elven standards, but it was better than her usual self these days. Kaitlyn always had a way of making her feel beautiful, it was a miracle and a blessing to have her as a friend.

Kaitlyn had outfitted her in a navy blue dress that flowed out just above her knee and pinched at her waist, the top of the dress fashioned like a polo shirt that buttoned down halfway. Her makeup was light and her hair was twisted back in a fancy braid up-do. Her skill with hair almost reminded her of Lethil had it not been for her outgoing and highly inappropriate personality. She was tall and slim with a short bob hair cut that suited her exceptionally well, her dark black hair having a few streaks of auburn running through it, her own dress was black and fitting to her figure, complementing her curves well.

She met her gaze in the mirror and couldn't help her smile as Kaitlyn winked and squeezed her shoulders, wiggling her eyebrows, "You never know, maybe you'll even meet someone while we're out."

She smiled and laughed at the comment despite the sharp pang she felt in her chest, "I highly doubt that, but we'll see. Let's go, it's getting late and knowing Will, they are probably already waiting for us."

Kaitlyn laughed and nodded, grabbing her purse and shoes before walking out the door ahead of her. Aaron grabbed her purse and car keys before taking one last look in the mirror, her gaze sad and forlorn for a moment as the unwelcome thought invaded her mind: _If only Thranduil could see me like this_. She shook her head and swiftly left her apartment, locking the door behind her and meeting Kaitlyn at her car.

This was her life now. Now, whether she liked it or not, she was like water: slipping through the fingers of whom she loved and holding up a ship's worth of emotion on her shoulders, just trying to get by day by day.

* * *

The restaurant they met at was a nice calm atmosphere. Fancy enough to be glad she dressed up, but not so fancy she worried about her wallet. As she suspected, Will and his new girlfriend Jessica were waiting for them at a table, all soft smiles and loving glances as they held hands and sipped their drinks. As soon as the happy couple saw Aaron and Kaitlyn arrive however, they let go of each other's hands and smiled at the joining party. Aaron had met Jessica a few times and she definitely approved of Will's new choice. She was cute, small, dainty and quiet with short dark brown hair and startling oceanic eyes.

Aaron greeted her and Will warmly as Kaitlyn took the drink menu from a cute waitress that was eyeing her discreetly. Kaitlyn gave her a rakish wink, sending the poor flustered girl away. She'd be back, and Kaitlyn would surely get her number. Knowing this, Aaron smiled and nudged her friend before taking a look over wine selection. For a moment, she felt a bitter laugh stick in her throat. Of all the time she spent at the Mirkwood Palace, she never once had a sip of their wine— _no_. Of course she hadn't. Because she hadn't been there. She needed to stop thinking about what she imagined in her coma, the things she thought she felt and learned. They were real.

Before she knew it, the waitress was back and ready to take their order, the waitress glancing at her as her cue to order. Without thinking much she ordered the first white wine she saw on the list, " _I'll have a glass of Riesling white wine, thank you._ "

For a moment everyone stopped and stared at her, as if she had a third eye. The waitress looked confused, "I-I'm sorry, miss, what was that?"

Aaron paused and looked back at the girl in confusion before a sudden cold dread shot through her like ice upon the realization: she had ordered in Elvish… She tried to catch herself, "Ah, sorry, a glass of Riesling please…"

The waitress nodded and rushed off, leaving the rest of the group to stare at her in shock. Aaron fiddled with her napkin self-consciously as she tried to laugh it off, "Did I not tell you? I learned Elvish a while back… You know, Lord of the Rings…"

Kaitlyn's confusion turned to awe, "You bitch! Why didn't you tell me! I would have totally loved to learn Elvish! How did you do it?" She crossed her legs and angled to face you more, leaning her chin on her hand. Will and Jessica seemed equally interested and engrossed as well.

Aaron laughed nervously, spotting the waitresses with their drinks and withholding her sigh of relief, "Lots of practice and online books. I could show you a few things if you'd like."

And with that, their drinks had arrived, they ordered an appetizer and continued chatting easily about work and schooling or relationship things, catching up and telling Aaron stories of things she missed while she was in her coma. It was a nice gesture and while she did appreciate it, she couldn't help but feel slightly left out. Like she didn't belong with them anymore. Still, she kept her smile and held through the night, having two glasses of wine before switching to water, not wanting to impair her driving and basic motor skills so she could take Kaitlyn and herself home.

* * *

By the time they were leaving it was far later than Aaron had agreed on, Kaitlyn had indeed gotten the waitress' number (her name was Sarah), and Kaitlyn had also managed to drink herself tipsy, spouting nonsense of how they should go to every café in the area and find her a boyfriend, "After all, you found Will in a café and he was a good boyfriend. It's too bad what happened between you two, you were a great couple."

Aaron smiled sadly as she drove, nearing Kaitlyn's apartment complex, "It happens. I'll find someone else I'm sure. You're already a step ahead of me with that waitress."

She grinned and sighed from the passenger seat, "Yeah, she was a cutie. I'll call her tomorrow and see if I can snatch a date or two~"

Aaron laughed as she parked outside the building, "I'm sure you will. You always do, you Casanova."

After helping Kaitlyn up to her apartment and making sure she was safely inside—and hiding her car keys so she wouldn't find them while drunk—she made her way back to her own apartment.

She leaned against the cool door as soon as it was closed and slid down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her hand on her forehead, closing her eyes. She felt warm, but that was probably the wine she had earlier. However, she couldn't blame the alcohol for the lump in her throat, prohibiting her ability to swallow properly. Tears stung her eyes and threatened to fall but Aaron shook her head, taking deep calming breaths as she forced herself to stand.

This was ridiculous. It's been over half a year since the coma and she was still hung up on her silly imaginations. She needed to move on. Dwelling on things that didn't exist wasn't going to help her in life. She managed to calm herself down to rid the threatening tears and moved to the kitchen to make herself some tea. She would drink her tea, strip down to pajamas and wash off her night out and curl up and go to bed. Maybe even read a book. But she wasn't going to think about this anymore—

Her thoughts were cut off when she heard a startlingly loud knock on the door. She set down the hot kettle and glanced at the clock: _12:41 AM_. Who the hell was at her door this late at night? She hoped to gods it wasn't Kaitlyn, but then again, if it were she would just burst inside like she usual did. Maybe it was William, having forgot something or wanting to talk.

She wiped her hands on the dish towel and went to the door, unlatching the lock and opening it cautiously, "Yes, who is it—"

She froze. Her body and mind unable to move or process what she saw, her eyes meeting an all too familiar icy blue gaze and strong figure, clad in a suit. Her chest constricted painfully as the very person of her fantasies smiled at her with a heart shattering relief, lifting his hand to gently touch her cheek.

There, in front of her, stood Thranduil.

He stepped towards her and cupped her face in his hands, leaning his forehead against hers, her knees going weak and her body still unable to move, her hand trembling on the door knob, tears filling her eyes as his deep melodic voice caressed her ears, " _I've found you, my Idril, my love_."

And then he kissed her.

He was _there_.

He was _real_.

He was _hers_.

 _And he came to find her._


End file.
